For Motherland! For Terra! For Rannoch!
by Gnaoh El Nart
Summary: [Discontinued] [Rewrite is online] [AU] Humanity, after much hardships and destruction, has finally reached the star. A full century of exploration and progress ends with two First Contact Scenario, one peaceful and friendly while the other is not. How will humanity react? Will they fail? Or will they prevail?
1. Prologue - Edited

**Chapter 0: Prologue**

Humanity is a strange species. They aim for unity, but they never finish it. They desire peace, yet they never actually believe any one preaching it. They seek progress, but they may have already destroyed more than what they gained. And for all of that strangeness, they stand strong and firm, they have become a full analogue against the Citadel Council.

They are our best partners, and our worst enemy.

 _Unnamed Asari Commando_

* * *

Uniting humanity into a single Nation is a job easier said than done. Even when said task is promoted or initiated right after a disaster, it is only a matter of time before "shit hits the fan". The League of Nations was formed in 1920 after The Great War, or World War I. At that time, everyone thought that peace was at hand. There was peace of course, until a certain Austrian named Adolf Hitler became German Fuhrer. Then, after 70 million casualties and seven years of bloody war, the United Nations was formed.

It was a pity that they could not defuse the Cold War soon enough. At least they were able to solve some racial issues of the late 20th century… and utterly fail with the Invasion of Iraq in 2003. The power of the United Nations becomes more questionable by mid-21st century with the total chaos. Ultra-nationalism, racism, sovereign disputes, terrorism… It did not take long for the Long Great War to erupt.

The Second World War saw the deployment of nuclear weapon as the end. The Third World War saw it as a common sight. How Earth managed to stay in one piece and (relatively) friendly to life is a mystery to many.

Finally, after ten long brutal and bloody years, when the last terrorist outpost was bombed, when the last bastion of Neo-Nazism was destroyed, Peace returned to Earth once more. This time, Earth unification was one of the main priorities, apart from economic recovery and civilizing military scientific developments. Compared to a century before that, mankind were more united than ever.

The United Nations was re-named into Terran Federation and was granted more power, becoming the sole representative and administrative power of human. The "traditional" science was challenged, leading to the developments of Faster-than-light travel. Anti-matter energy was developed so much that it could be made cheaper than ever before. New Nano-materials allow better conservation of raw materials which were already dried due to the War. Artificial Intelligence became a reality and quickly gained their places in modern society.

In less than fifty years, human society changed completely. We stopped fighting among ourselves and aimed for the stars. To be more precise, we stopped fighting, but we still developed new ways of killing, some of which had became the iconic for each faction of the Federation. It was tense sometimes, but for a species who believe in peace can be guaranteed by M.A.D., or Mutually Assured Destruction, it was quite a good time to live.

Nevertheless, human expansion in space was quite rapid. In 2100, the moon was re-conquered and the first space-borne base was built. In 2109, human claimed Mars as a new colony with the new FTL-drive made in 2097. In 2130, the human presence reached the Asteroid Belt. In 2132, the 'Prothean' ruin was discovered on Mars, boosting science and technology to a whole new level. In 2170, human had already owned over 25 "garden" worlds, ten "forge" worlds and three "fortress" worlds.

The future was bright then. Human, despite Evidence, still thought that they were the only sentient life in the galaxy. They were right, at least until Shanxi, until the Event of Relay Three-Fourteen . In the span of two weeks, hell broke loose. The irony was not lost on any human: precisely 100 years after peaceful expansion, humanity had to face a hostile Extra-Terrestrial enemy.

 _Extract from_ A look at the last 100 years _, a History project work from a high school student on Terra Nova._

* * *

Humanity is probably the strangest Race the Citadel Council has met so far. Instead of having a single united government, they divide themselves into different factions (verified at eight governing bodies) and elect a common representative board to keep them in check. In a simple manner of speaking, each individual government can direct their state as they will, as long as it does not conflict with the Terran Federation Charter.

The confirmed administrative institution of humanity are as bellow:

 **Terran Federation** : The official representative of all humans. Their power, both economic and military, is the combined might and resources of all known human forces. Being a well-rounded government, they are capable of dealing with a wide range of problems, from economic crash to pirate attacks. However, they are infamous among human due to its 'bureaucracy'.

 **United States of North America** : Considered as the most powerful member-state of the Terran Federation, both in terms of economy and military. Having a democratic system, USNA can be considered as the fairest nation-state among the eight members. Most human scientific advances are confirm to origin from this member-state. However, they also have the highest rate of imprisonment and largest gap between rich and poor (about 10 times larger than the human's average)

 **Federation of Eastern European Republics** : Considered at second rank in term of power, they are respected due to a high standard of military engineering and an established martial tradition. In addition, the Federation also has the most impressive industrial prowess among the human factions. The stereotype of this member-state can be summed up as bad-mannered, tough and very reliable, for man and equipment both. However, corruption and alcoholism have hindered the progress of the federation.

 **People's Republic of United China** : Ranked equally at second place with the REEF (though slightly weaker), PRUC gained its position due to raw numbers in manpower and resources. With this edge, they are able to field a large number of assets at any given time. The most notable proof for this is that they produce the highest tonnage of space-ships annually, both civilian and military models. Their main drawback is the lack of initiative among the low-level officials.

 **Pan-Asian Coalition** : Ranked fourth in term of power, due to the historical reason (being giant-killer). While lacking industrial power or the manpower of the 'Big Three', they made up with their ingenious as well as a heart of steel. Being influenced equally by the major three powers, their military doctrine focus on crippling enemy critical assets in an alpha strike and it can easily turn into asymmetrical and/or unconventional warfare, providing the war actually erupts. At the moment, they are considered as the best human diplomats.

 **European Union** : Ranked fifth (slightly weaker than PAC), mainly due to its highly-capitalist policies and a good sense of trading. Once a major power bloc, the power of EU was reduced significantly due to the Great War. However, they were able to recover, thanks to high-tech equipment. Their military favours high-speed engagements and combat, preferring out-manoeuvring their enemies. At the moment, they produce the highest quality of space-ships for human.

 **Democratic Republic of India** : Ranked at sixth position, DRI stays true to their stereotype (much to their annoyance) as brilliant information technology engineers. Most, if not all, breakthroughs in terms of computer science come from this nation-state. It is believed that the first one thousand human AIs were originally from the DRI, and so were the next three thousands more until the first non-DRI AI was made "properly" in USNA. However, the poverty rate of DRI is the second-highest among the human nations, hindering their development greatly.

 **South America Alliance** : Ranked at seventh position, SAA marked their place by being a major producer of spices, silk and other human luxuries. While they can profit from said products, they also have to face the danger of highly-addictive drugs and an alarming rate of corruption (which, in turns, make corruption in FEER looks like 'clean nation'). At the moment, a major operate of 'house cleaning' is being launched to root out all undesirable elements.

 **Africa – Middle East Alliance** : Ranked at eighth position, AMEA was once remembered as an area rich in fossil fuels and other precious raw materials. However, terrorists and extremists gained a heavy presence here and greatly hamper the mining progress. Combined with the appearance of new and clean energy sources as well as better man-made material, they lost their main strength. Lucky for them, they were able to completely terraform their homeland, at least half of which was desert, and become the main bread-basket for Earth. Nowadays, their main forte is this technology. They are ranked the weakest due to an (almost) absence of military power.

* * *

The first time of me trying to write a Mass Effect fanfic. Mostly inspired by other works on this website as well as I want to read some HFY (Humanity F*** Yeah) stories. Last but not least, I just want to practice English smirk.

For clarification, this is my setting for the book:

 **Setting:**

Alternative Universe (AU) - That explains World War 3, the absence of System Alliances, the fact that we human use another form of Faster than light (FTL) travel, the Prothean Archive on Mars also show threats of a larger galaxy (top secret) or the Charon Relay was busted (courtesy of Prothean)

First Contact War between Human and Turian (for Book 1, that is, if I have time to write more)

Situation: A peaceful First Contact between human and Quarian near Shanxi and Relay Three-Fourteen (314). And then, a patrol of Turian shows up and trashes the scene, killing multiple ships and capture one more (a Quarian frigate, carrying on-site volunteers)

 **Human developments:**

Artificial Intelligence (for both military and civilian use)

Shock-Warp Drive (another form of FTL travel, independent of Element Zero - though improvements can be made if EZ is used)

Terra forming technology

Anti-matter reactors

Nano-material

Power suit (limited)

Mech suit (mostly for civilian use)

Orbital elevators (only at Earth and major colonies)

 **This story is inspired by:**

Mass Effect: Iron Hear of Man - Fanfic - Author: Apollonir

Mass Effect: The Terran Gambit - Fanfic - Author: Informedterran

Dawn of Titans - Fanfic - Author: F13D

Against the Odds - Fanfic - Author: Agentweapon Proelium-Tempus

The Siege of Shanxi - Fanfic - Author: Made Nightwing

Mass Effect: The First War - Fanfic - Author: ProfFartBurger

Halo franchise - Property of 343 Industries, a subsidiary of Microsoft Studios

AldNoah Zero (anime) - Property of A-1 Pictures

Deus Ex franchise - Developed by Ion Storm and Edios Montreal

Independence Day - Directed by Roland Emmerich

 **Expected update speed:** 1~2 weeks/chapter, each chapter is 4~5 thousands words

*** **Edit:** The cover image was originated from Pinterest, Ed Natividad Concept Art, designed by Erik Lanuza

*** **Edit** : The story is also being posted on the AlternateHistory forum (Alien Space Bat sub-forum). This chapter has already been beta-read by two members there: Devilking1994 and Walkin' Man


	2. Chapter 1 - Edited

**Location:**  
Battle Station A-156, _Lee Jufan_ -class (under construction) – Dock 10-A  
10 light-second from Mass Relay Theta-T25A  
Zhusanjiao system  
People's Republic of United China, Terran Federation

 **Date:**  
January 15, 2200 (Terran calendar)  
04:13 Earth time – 07:00 local time – 07:00 Station time

Space was the final frontier. It sounded pretty great, until you actually reached it. Then, you would (probably) realise that space was pretty boring. There was only vacuum so sound cannot be transmitted, the radiation level, even in "milder" zones, would be hundred times of the maximum level, not to mention the gruesome death if some one ventured into space without the proper equipment. And even if you had the right equipment… There was a good reason why all space-borne operators and contractors were required to watch the classical "Gravity" movie.

Damm, he was still able to feel the fear then… Bloody yank. Taking a deep breath, he spoke into the microphone:

"Control, this is Operator Tran Kien Vuong, call-sign Kilo Victor, ID number PAC-Mango-One-Two-Niner, requesting permission for takeoff."

"Operator, Control. Permission granted. Good work you did yesterday, keep up shall ya?"

"Control, Kilo Victor. Copy, though no promise."

"Just saying so Kilo Victor. This is Control, out."

The line went dead, but the chuckle of the young man remained. Four years after the brutal studying of Engineering in the Everest University (located on Earth), he applied for a job in the Pan-Asian Coalition Armed forces, mostly because he wanted to explore the universe. And they paid very well, the salary was twice as much as what he hoped for.

For a newly-graduated engineer, he would normally receive about 5000 credit per month, six if he joined some projects in his company. But building a space battle station for the Terran Federation? They paid him ten thousand, along with a good insurance program (including dental and ophthalmology) and a military training program – nothing fancy, just Federation Guardsman level (or "weekend warriors"), but it was good enough for him.

The only drawback was that he did not have much time talking to his family on Elysium (mostly due to time lag). But it was not much of a problem, he had been able to find a balance between his new work and the time needed to chat to his family. It was a bit tight, but he was used to it already.

The heavy sound of clamping disengaged waked him from the train of thought. Right, back to work. He took a deep breath and cleared the mind. Having a fuzzy mind would spell disaster for any engineering work, especially when the said work was in space. A small distraction was enough to put the wrong beam in the wrong port, which means that the structure strength would greatly decrease (if not outright un-connectable). Looking at any way, it meant lower efficiency, and less money paid in his account.

Deep breathe… Operator Vuong (that was his given name by the way) put some pressured on his toes and the Mech-suit Pioneer responded by firing out a short burst like a jet fighter. That was right, he was a Mech-operator, Grade B, which meant he was able to work with virtually any known model of Mechs. For a young man at just over 27, it could be said as an honour.

Though the situation still puzzled him, he had no idea why the Pioneer model had an eerily similar appearance to the Force Amplifier Platform Mark IV from the famous anime _Zeek_ recently. Oh, and why the acronym was FAP was anyone guess. Probably the designer did not want any women operating his sweet little baby. Probably...

Nevertheless, the Mech helped him to finish the job, and hence, he would not jinx or piss it off. He knew Murphy too well already.

The Mech sped up, pushing Tran a bit deeper on the synthesis-leather bound seat. A few seconds later, the acceleration got weaker; he was officially "in space". Without batting an eye, he turned to the upper left, the area right outside the greenhouse hull. Today, his job was to finish installing extra solar panels on it, something about increasing power yield for the station.

Upon reaching space, the radio crackled with the voice of his old friends in university:

"Hey Shortie! Finally getting out of bed eh?"

"C'mon Jack, leave him be. Do you really want to get a punch to your balls again?"

"And you were the one who made them fight last time Yuri. How much did you earn?"

"One-oh-five cred. More than enough for a good drink."

Oh right, them. His old project group since first year had, somehow, stay in one piece for the entire college life. It was interesting to note that there were eight members coming from eight member-states of the Federation. In addition, for better or worse, they stayed true to their respective stereotypes. In other words, you had a project team with a happy-trigger guy, an always-drunk folk, a "bourgeois", a… Well, it was a long list. How they managed to stay closed friends was a mystery to many people.

Grunting half-heartily, Vuong briefly wonder why the entire team decided to join their respective Armed forces (again) before replying:

"Jack, shut up. Or no more music today."

"Shite… OK. So what do you have today? Propaganda songs from the good ol' Russia?"

" _Nein_ , some Vietnamese songs, the "red" songs I mean, from the 20th century. And yes, there is some hatred inside, but they were written during the war. Moreover, they have good rhythm, on par with the songs you are thinking Jack."

"OK buddy, sound good. Let loose the beat man."

Vuong spoke some commands into the microphone and it did not take long for the music from 250 years ago blazing on the net. They were old songs and understood by no one but him, not to mention that their lyrics were practically out of date. But for those hot-head young men, the music was more than enough to keep their blood pumping and their minds sharp, which means they are "fit" for the job. Moreover, the job they were doing was very tedious, meaning they would need a constant source of entertainment. For space-borne operators, it meant that they would receive less stress per day, leading to a lower rate of troubles, which was highly welcome by the officials.

Behind the reinforced-bullet-proof glass, Vuong sneaked a look at the strange "Tuning fork". It had been lying there, dormant, since the discovery five years ago. Rumours said that the ancient alien Prothean used them to move between star systems. It was a pity that the "Mass Relay" in Solar System was badly damaged (Vuong and his friend were betting money on a drunken Prothean technician), forcing human to develop another way of FTL travel.

For better or worse, those eggheads took the idea straight out of a video game. From the name to the overall working principle and even the visual effect, the Shock-Warp drive looked exactly like in the _Battleship_ franchise. It was a wonder that there was no major law suit back then.

At least… the system worked beautifully for the last one hundred year. Speaking of which, it would the 200th anniversary of the second landing on Moon in two weeks" time. The Station Commander was planning to throw a party for everyone on board with all the luxuries they can get. The rumours had already included alcohol, weed and a lot of popcorn for a cat-fight (though he was not very sure about the "cat-fight"). In addition, he might be able to ask Rin, the sweet female engineer in Dock 9, out for a dinner. He still had a significant amount of saving stashed somewhere in the station.

After a few gentle and delicate movements, he reached his destination and began his work. A bit boring and tiring, but it paid well. Besides, no one would complain if he played the music a bit too loud in the office. After all, he was the only one there. Looking at the monitor showing the landscape outside, he took a good look of his team before taking out the panels. It would be a long day ahead.

Yesterday, he had already finished installing the frame system, one day ahead of schedule thanks to his revision of the design. Less work needed, less material needed and still being able to do the same job. That was the (unofficial) motto of engineers everywhere, they simply made life became productive, as high as possible.

That being said, he hoped that he could finish the job soon. The chef made chicken today, and he liked chicken. Either he completed his work correctly and fast, or the chicken would run out and he had to eat fish, something he really hate.

* * *

 _Iktomi_ \- Heavy Scout Flotilla, Patrol Fleet, Quarian Migrant Fleet  
Next to 313 Relay – Uncharted region of Space  
*Under unsanctioned and unofficial mission*

"Captain, are you sure about your mission?"

"Yes sir."

"Are you aware that we may not be able to rescue you, in case you were intercepted by Turian patrol, or worse?"

"Yes sir. But… what can be worse than meeting those trigger-happy _bosh'et_? And I met the Batarians before, I got five of their ships, they had none of mine."

"... Alright captain. I just want to be sure. Proceed Captain. _Keelah se'lai_."

" _Keelah se'lai_ Admiral. Zare'Rozu vas Iktomi out."

The face of the Admiral blinked out of existence. Captain Rozu sighed, a sick worried feeling grumbling in his stomach. The Admiral Board had already decided to risk opening a Mass Relay, number 313, which would lead to Mass Relay number 314. It was illegal under Council Law, but the Quarian people were not a member anymore. To be more precise, their membership was temporarily suspended, but anyone with half a brain could read between the lines.

The Quarians, for all intents and purposes, had been left in disgraced. The Geth Rebellion was originally his people's mistake, but no one extended a hand to help them, so much for an _united galactic community_. As a result, for four centuries, they had to live on a bunch of rag tag ships, Zare knew that the "expiration date" of which was coming. The Fleet had ten more galactic months to survive at most, providing the cannibalise some of their own ships - the need of many outweighs the need of few.

In short, his mission was critical, a "do-or-die". But as the Admiral said earlier: _Keelah se'lai_. Taking a deep breath, he turned to the navigator, a young but highly capable Vias'Vula vas Iktomi, and said:

"Helm, punch through. Take us through the Relay."

"Aye aye Captain."

Everyone knew it: there would be no turning back now. They may be shot for breaking a rule, but if their Motherland needed them to do it, they would do that in a heartbeat. In addition, it would not upset the balance of the galaxy if one more _suit rat_ , would it not?

The Mass Relay suddenly brightened up, it was activated, and his ship boosted toward the unknown. In less than a blink of an eye, _Iktomi_ reached the other side of the Relay.

Shock and awe quickly covered the bridge. They realised two things: One, the Relay worked fine (just like it supposed to) and two, they were not alone in this system. Welcoming them were a gigantic space station with a few ships nearby. Each of those ship was built-like-a-brick and just a few steps shy of cruiser-class.

They looked ugly, but the Captain knew too well that ugly did not equal weak. The Krogan could be considered as a prime example of this. Prime shock troopers, excellent close quarter combat masters and good drinkers, the only drawback Zare found in them was the ill-temper.

A meek voice turned up, awe and fear flooded his tone:

"Cap… Captain… Is that a space station?"

"A space station… a battle space station is more correct helm… Does that…"

"Belong to the Council? No. I don't see it matches any known designs, unless the Salarian or the Turians just made a new one not long ago."

"Which is highly unlikely."

"Correct sir."

The stun and fear kept everyone in silence for a while. At least for a few moment until the CIC (Combat Information Centre) officer screamed out loud:

"WHAT? No eezo? Captain. I don't see any eezo signal from here. I repeat no eezo."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes sir, I've already triple-checked them. They either don't use eezo, or the amount they use can be said as practical zero."

Zare muttered a curse under his breath. No eezo meant a very-bad scenario: a First Contact. It also meant that his ship had already violated these aliens' sovereign. If they were as violent as the Rachni, he and his crew would be dead in a few minutes. The only hope for them was to send a First Contact package in order to calm them down. Hopefully.

Doing that might not be a Quarian's job as the Council had already forbidden any First Contact without Asari support, but the same could be said for activating a dormant Relay. In addition… these aliens here might want to trade with the Migrant Fleet. And in the current situation, the Fleet could not be the chooser and the beggar in the same time.

"Comm. Do we have a First Contact Package?"

"Yes sir, if you want, I'… Incoming message sir! Communication, coming from the station sir… They knew we are here! All kind of known method, radio wave, microwave... and even laser comm sir."

"We can't go back now, not when. So, let's take a gamble. Alright, comm, on screen!"

An alien appeared on the holo screen. He, if the appearance can be described as belonged to a male, looked… brown, but not dark brown. More like a pink light brown if Zare had to try. In addition, his outlook was not very different from a male Asari (if there was such a specimen) minus the skin colour. He just did not have a 'rack' or the tentacle above his head. Instead, he had something… like fur? Well, the universe was vast after all.

Zare's train of thought was interrupted by the loud and low voice coming from the alien. If he had to guess, the individual here would be a military commander, no-nonsense, firm stance and his eyes were just like lances trying to pierce someone's soul:

" _Attention alien vessel, this is Captain Leonardo Vincent of Terran Navy. On behalf of Earth and her colonies, I welcome you to our home. I hope that we can share a peaceful coexistence and cooperation. But should we dare to attack us, considered yourself warned. Plata O Plomo. Vincent, out._ "

The message ends abruptly. If anyone had to try, they could use the word "shocked" to describe Captain Zare'Rozu now. He did not understand a single word of that… alien, yet, in the same time, he had to analyse the implication of just meeting one. Another chime reported the incoming of a new message.

This time, it was a First Contact package. A vid was played, first showing a blue flag with a thick white stripe running horizontally in the middle. Right at the centre of the stripe was a white ring, inside it was two branches of leaves crossing, cover another and smaller white ring. Inside most was a ring of eight four-point star forming a circle around the ninth and the biggest star.

Zare was bit puzzled when seeing it. If he had to guess, he would say it was the flag of the alien, but the eight stars trouble him somehow. It was like he knew something should be there, but he had no idea what it should be. Then a series of flags were shown, eight in total. It was not until now that he knew what the missing part was.

These aliens were not as fully united as he thought them to be. Eight flags meant eight… Clans? Nations? But with the images of smiling children and men and women working together, those "clans" could be said as friends and partners, if not full-fledged allies. After all, they were sharing the same blue flag as shown initially. A peaceful conglomerate perhaps?

The next part of the package was the real mine. They contained some key notes for the language, judging from the way data was stored. Zere did not waste any time before feeding such into the ship's VI. Now, as universal politeness dictated, he had to send a message back. Turning toward communication officer, he spoke as calmly as possible:

"Comm, send a message to these aliens. Vid message. Begin on my count… Now! Greeting aliens, my name is Zare'Rozu vas Iktomi, Captain of the Quarian Migrant Fleet. On behalf of my people, I send you my warmest welcome. OK, Comm, send it."

A flick of finger was all the officer needed to deliver the message. Now, the crew of _Iktomi_ simply waited for the unknown. Each of them was worried sick, originally they would receive no support or rescue from the Fleet, not to mention this bizarre situation. If these aliens were as violent as the Krogan, the crew could start destructing their ship now.

Zare sighed again. Now, he still had one thing left to do, but two would be more correct. In addition, these two were his originally tasks instructed by the Admiral Board. Scan the system and then send a report back to their people. It would be pointless to wait for these aliens to respond, after all, they had no idea what the other was speaking. And like his Dad once said, better do something more productive meanwhile.

Ordering his crew to initiate a normal scan of the system, he began making a new report. He had no idea if this is a cruel joke of fate. This system had a moderate amount of eezo, if the signal coming from a brazen rock could be trusted. There was also a life-friendly planet nearby, though it had already been colonised by these aliens. Now, Zare had no choice but to pray for these aliens to be merciful.

Little did he know, the commander of the space station, Leonardo Vincent, was praying the same.

* * *

"What do you say? Repeat!"

"We just met the alien! Now get inside quickly Operator! Captain doesn't want to have unnecessary risk here."

"Control, Kilo Victor. Copy. My team and I are moving inside, permission to dock at Dock 10."

"Permission granted. Proceed with haste and care. Control out."

The Ensign sighed deeply, and loudly enough for Leonardo to hear. To be fair, he could not blame the poor and young officer. After all, he felt like he was in an urgent need to drink. Preferably with a lot of tequila, even if it was the way he met his second girlfriend... Taking another deep breath, he spoke out loud to the Command Centre:

"I announce this is a CODE ALAMO. I repeat, CODE ALAMO. Comm, send a message to High Command and Arcturus, also, send a message to Lieutenant General Richard Williams, tell him to start evacuating citizen and mobilise the troops of Shanxi Garrison."

Many eyes got widened after that. Fitting, CODE ALAMO did not require such action strongly, it was CODE COBRA. But on the other hand, a spark was all it need to turn CODE ALAMO into CODE COBRA, and no one wanted to risk it here. After all, human had already made enough movies and video games on the basis of a First Contact gone (horribly) wrong. In every single one of them, human was virtually wiped out or beaten down to one knee. Furthermore, as military personnel working in space, it had become an unsung rule for each of them to watch or play at least one such movie or video game.

Terran Federation never did anything half-heartily, nor they lack a contingency plan for any possible scenario.

The Communication officer reported:

"Sir, I sent a message to Shanxi and Arcturus already. Shanxi Garrison confirmed that the message was received and understood, Arcturus AI just confirmed that our message had been received via QEC. Expected 15 minutes before High Command send an answer."

"Alright... So we have nothing else to do now... Serina! Any progress on decoding the alien's language?"

A bright blue hologram of a Caucasian woman appeared on the commander's deck. She had a slim and a less-than-average bust, though no one dared to comment the later part to the station's AI. Bad things had already happened to the crazy crew members of the station. Flipping her long smooth hair, she replied with a very chic accent:

"Not much sir. Even with the new message from the ship, it would still take us at least an hour to have a basic translation program. However, I recommend to wait for at least three hours so that the quality of the program is more trustworthy. But on the other hand, it would be much faster if you allow me to hack into their system, I may be able to complete a translation matrix in 30 minutes and conduct an intelligence operation in the same time."

Leonardo scratched his chin. To be honest with himself, he had considered that option. Serina was a third-generation Artificial Intelligence, meaning she was highly capable of conducting cyber warfare. However, Leo had no intel on these aliens' capability, if they did not find out Serina's hack, it was not a problem. But if they found, it would ignite a First Contact War. As a fan of the _Rubio_ franchise, he knew how terrible that sound. Moreover, in case of the intruding attempt was find out, they may suspect Serina was an AI (which was a correct assumption) and if they had hostile relationship with AI...

No, this strategy was simply too risky. In other words, this decision was above his pay grade. But now, he was the highest ranking officer in the area, responsibilities fell on him to decide the final verdict.

"Negative Serina. We have no idea what they are capable of. Better play it straight and honest for now."

"Understood Colonel. I'm going back to build up the translation matrix and monitor the weapon distribution process now. Should I arm the Mech-operators? All eight of them have military training."

"... That's fine, but keep those operators on the second line, guarding the civilian hub, and make sure no one see our Marines in full gear running around."

"Roger that Colonel. Is there anything else sir?"

Leonardo blinked his eyes a few times, hoping to get an idea, which he did, but he knew that it was plain crazy. There was simply too much risk in that. If he played it wrong, he could put everyone on board in jeopardy. As a commander, that idea was plain sickening. However, he had no other choice. Continuous communication was a key feature in building trust, all kind of trust, be it between humans or between humans and other species. It was correct, in theory at least.

Taking another deep breath, he said slowly:

"Yes, I'm planning to invite those aliens on board. Is there any objection?"

The bridge turned silent. There was no one voicing disagreement, but no one following his idea neither. It was... normal after all, the whole situation had been bizarre from the beginning. Then, a soft voice sounded behind his back. English, with a slight accent in the voice:

"I agree with the Colonel. I recommend having them docked at Dock 11. It was just finished last week so it was brand new, fitting to welcome... officials from other civilisation. In addition, it's also near Dock 10, allowing us to flush out heavy equipment, or Dock 13, which is our main military deployment hub."

It was Commander Cho Minhu, though every one called her "Mina" when off-duty. As this area was a colony of People's Republic of United China, it only made sense if a Chinese officer became the second-in-command of the Terran force here. Some things died hard, really, despite being autonomous governing bodies, each of them were still highly "nationalism" and competitive, just for the sake of "following the tradition". In addition, she was also highly-capable of running administration tasks on the station. Her efficiency was also able to impress Serina, which meant she was more than just "a good officer".

If she recommended such an idea, it meant that he should follow it. Thinking again, he had no other way to solve this problem. Hence, Dock 11 would house these aliens for a while.

"Comm, send a message to them. Visual. Show them the docking process and how to move to Dock 11. Put an extra warning in it. Something like they shoot us, they dead, they stray from course, they dead. I leave the exact manner to you. How long do you need?"

The communication officer, clearly stressed from such an order, mumbling a bit before giving a straight answer: Two minutes. Somehow, he had already made some similar messages back when he was still in Naval Academy. At least it was a goods news to Leonardo and Minhu. The process, so far, was pretty smooth. No shooting, no killing... And he sincerely hoped it would never happen. Human had already seen enough death and destruction.

The officer in the communication booth swept his sweat on the forehead. Clearly the stress on him was not an easy one. It was fitting, really, he was one of the more vocal voice on the station in being preparing for a war against alien invaders. Now, he was doing everything in his capabilities to keep the war from even igniting. On wrong step and Murphy would make things even worse.

The message was sent and for five whole minutes, the entire traffic was frozen. It was total silent. No one sent anything, no one talked or even dared to mumbled. The only sound in the bridge was the slight hum of the machines and the steady breath of the crew members. The whole situation looked like a storm was brewing over the horizon. Everyone crossed their fingers, hoping for the best - peace. Wars among humans alone had been terrible enough already.

Then, after five tense minutes, single message was received from the alien vessel, a visual or an image file. It was a thumb-up, a green one. Leonardo, Minhu and even Serina, who had reappeared somewhere in the last five minutes, quirked their eyebrows at the officer. They knew that the image was pretty universal to the humans, but to send it to the aliens during the First Contact? That was quite out of the blue. There was no guarantee that the aliens would understand it properly without the proper context. At least the communication officer was able to do the job just right. Realising the gaze of superior officers, he just shrugged and said:

"It works, doesn't it?"

Yep, the thumb-up idea could be crazy, so crazy that it might actually work. But if it worked, it was not crazy.

Leo sighed, turned around and said:

"Lieutenant Commander, prepare a security detachment. I'm going to meet them down there."

* * *

 **Author's note: Wow, just the Prologue and I've already had 8 followers and 16 favourites? Thanks a lot guys, that alone gives me more strength to write the new chapter.**

 **Enjoy, read and review. All constructive criticism is welcomed.**

 **Note: For Commander Cho Minhu, I made up her name: The family name ("Cho") is taken from Cho Chang ( _Harry Potter_ franchise, one year above Potter and his gang, studying in Ravenclaw and Harry's first crush). And the given name ("Minhu") is purely made-up. If any Chinese (both mainland, Hong Kong, Taiwan and every where else) believe he/she can make a better name, please tell me. Thanks a lot.**

 **Tran Kien Vuong (the Mech operator at the beginning) is Vietnamese-descendent. I put him here because of nationalism (I'm a Vietnamese). His friends will also see major actions alongside him soon, I promise.**

 **Shanxi and Zhusanjiao are real locations (a province and a delta) in China (mainland) today.**

 **You probably notice that Colonel Vincent advised General Williams to evacuate civilian and mobilise the troops, it is purely for a just-in-case scenario (though it'll turn into an ugly truth soon enough)**

 **For the next chapter, Colonel Vincent will meet Captain Rozu and (hopefully) Raze won't freak out when he meets Serina. Turian appearance will be mentioned by the late part of chapter 3.**

 **For the word count of this chapter, the number stood at 4558 words (A/N not included)**

* * *

 **:** **Thanks for your review, I'd try my best to limit the number of typos then**


	3. Chapter 2 - Edited

**Acronym:**

TF: Terran Federation  
USNA: United States of North America  
FEER: Federation of Eastern Europe Republic  
PRUC: People's Republic of United China  
PAC: Pan-Asia Coalition  
EU: European Union  
DRI: Democratic Republic of India  
SAA: South American Alliance  
AMEA: Africa - Middle East Alliance

ODST: **O** rbital **D** rop **S** hock **T** rooper  
FAP: **F** orce **A** mplifier **P** latform (The Mech-operator is nicknamed as "Fapper")

Wilco: Will comply  
RTB: Return to base

* * *

 **Author's note: Thank you for your reviews and support. Just two chapters and I've already got a sustainable amount of follows and** **favourites. It is a very good news for a "rookie" author like me.**

WildKhaine: Trust me, the AI would give the Quarian a hard time. But at least they still have the mentality "enemy of our enemy is not our enemy" when the Turians appear and shoot first, ask later

Gyre: So stay tune and wait :)

Patriota1993: _Humanity F***_ yeah at my finest, I can assure you that

 **Now, please enjoy my next chapter. For disclaimer, ODST is taken from _Halo_ franchise, FAP is inspired by the Mech-suit in _Avatar_ movie.**

 **And on a side note, our universal war cry is " _For Motherland! CHARGE!"_ , though some countries may use other with similar inspiring power. In addition should I cry " _For the EMPEROR! DIE, you filthy xeno"_ in this fanfic?**

 **Word count: 5349 - edited (not sure how much for the second edit though...)**

* * *

 **Location:**

Battle Station A-156, _Lee Jufan_ -class (under construction) – Dock 11

10 light-second from Mass Relay Theta-T25A

Zhusanjiao system

People's Republic of United China, Terran Federation

 **Date:**

January 15, 2200 (Terran calendar)

05:13 Earth time

 **Welcoming committee:**

Leader: Captain Leonardo Vincent

Assistant: Lieutenant Commander Nguyen Manh Dung (1)

Observer: Commander Cho Minha

Head of security team: Major Yuri Silva (FEER-originated) - Terran Marine (ODST)

Head of scientific team: Associate Professor Sonchat Banerjia - DRI

Standing on the (cold) hard metal grey floor, Leonardo suddenly had the feeling that his life was being re-played in his mind, which was not a good omen. Despite being an atheist, he was still superstitious, meaning that he always got out of bed on his right, and peed on every ship he was given the command. In other words, the feeling of past events being "re-analysed" meant that his life would end in a few minutes. The only good grace, if it could be considered as such, was that he would not die alone, as Lieutenant Commander Nguyen had already joked about: "Better to die in a bunch than to live alone". (2) Though, it only made him even more worried about it.

Glancing to the sides, he saw a ceremonial marine squad already assembled. Still wearing the old Marine dress blues of the (old) United States of America, the guards were still able to make others feel impressed and/or awed. The only difference was instead of wearing the traditional uniform, they were wearing a hard environmental suit with a pair magnetic boots. Their helmets were set at "clear" level, showing the different ethnicities, a result of humanity being united under a single cause. No more racism, which could not survive after a catastrophic war

The welcoming committee had been assembled, and as the highest-ranking officer in the area, and a Terran officer, Leonardo would be the one who leads the welcoming party. In addition, he was the one who would greet the newcomers. Commander Cho would be the "Overlord", or officer staying in the bridge to monitor the whole process and ensure everything was acceptable. Assisting Leo on the ground was a 50-year-old Lieutenant Commander from PAC named Nguyen Manh Dung. Though why a ground officer was assigned to a space station was beyond any imagination. As far as Leo knew, Dung was complaining about being bored, so was picked for the job. That, and he was more than able to deal with any kind of hostile situation if things turned south.

To complement the committee, a Terran Marine officer, Major Yuri Silva and his unit, the 3rd Platoon of the 22nd ODST Battalion, was selected as the escort for the aliens. Their task was to keep the aliens out of any trouble, or from making any threats. Lieutenant Commander Dung's assignment was to make sure contingency plans would be enacted should they fail.

The final individual on the committee was Associate Professor Sonchat Banerjia, the highest-ranking academic on the station. He was specialised in Electronics and their application, which meant he may be able to talk with these aliens about science and keeping them from doing something foolish. However, per Leo's insistence, Professor left his AI, Shina, in the office, just in case these aliens did not like artificial intelligence.

Still, the situation had not been entirely peaceful, with it having escalated roughly 15 minutes ago.

Activating the microphone in the helmet, Leonardo dialed the bridge before asking, "Mina, what are you thinking now?"

"About what, sir? The fact that those aliens are using the Prothean FTL drive, Or the fact that a few new frigates, just appeared near the Relay?"

"Both, Commander."

Leonardo finished his sentence with a sigh. For obvious reasons, those aliens had already reported the situation to their superiors, which was the same thing he did. However, Arcturus had allowed for a meeting only a minutes ago, a bit too slow for his taste but it had been a significant improvement over the slow and efficiency-questionable bureaucracy of the Terran Federation. So far, his order was pretty simple: Continue First Contact protocol per dictated by CODE: ALAMO.

At the same time, the aliens had been able to call their friends, four more ships of the corvette-class, as defined by Terran Navy and her member-states. He was impressed at the efficiency of these aliens, or the luck as they have friends nearby. The closet colony to the system was five days of travel under the Shock-Warp drive, the nearest military concentration was closer to eleven days.

Though to be honest, the new arrivals were quite a shock to the command crew. After all, they had no idea about these newcomers' capabilities. That was probably the only thing stopping the weapons officer from launching the entire station's armament at the newcomers. Fate may have dictated that these aliens had energy shielding capable to blocking all attacks known to humans, turning that reckless move into an act of war. A war that could result in humanity enslaved, turned into mindless drones or indoctrinated puppets, or annihilated altogether.

Some highly agitated members of the command staff had attempted to warm up the Heavy MAC and the missile silos. Thank God that the level headed crew members were able to stop them before bad became worse. It was fortunate that the aliens did not know just how close they came to being locked on by the cannon.

The voice of Commander Cho returned after a short pause.

"For using the Prothean drive, I'd say that they found Prothean ruins, probably with as much data as ours on Mars, found an eezo stash in said ruins with enough to build a small fleet or a heavy flotilla to find another major eezo mine. Or they traded with other alien civilisations. Though it doesn't have to be in that specific order."

"How? And what about the second problem?"

"First question: Long story, probably. It just came to my mind a few seconds ago, and I still need time to sort it out properly. Regarding the second question... I'd say the first ship was either on a patrol or scouting run, but the second theory is more likely."

"Understood. Is there any advice that you can give me?"

"Yes, sir. Stick to the book rule, and be sure you have a knife behind your back, just in case. Just a figurative speech."

"Roger that. Serina, are there any disturbances on the net?"

A bright blue hologram appeared on the data node next to the commander. The female AI, Serina, reappeared wearing a chic, formal, dress. She looked like a miniature of a very smart-looking female secretary, providing that they did not glow bright blue all the time. The female AI replied curtly:

"Sir, none of the activity I found can be attributed to theses aliens. However, it is interesting to note that there was a sudden spike in porn searches in the last 45 minutes. I believe it can be indirectly connected to the First Sighting event, sir."

Leonardo was not sure if he had heard the last part correctly. Looking at Serina's hologram with an expression that could be described as " _What the f*** you just say?_ ", he kept silent for five full seconds, each seeming longer than the last. His gaze did not change, causing the chic AI to blink a few times, looking troubled as the silence reigned in the area. None of the ceremonial troops, dared to speak up, or wanted to for that matter.

"Is there a problem, sir? I can give you the report with the statistics used in the said time frame if you want."

"No, it's alright Serina, but… I'm just curious, what kind of... porn is that?"

The female hologram fixed her (holo)glasses before pulling out a paper from her clipboard and read over it. With a slight edge in her voice which could be interpreted as quizzical or unsure, she said:

"The highest increase in terms of both rate and number belong to Sci-fi theme, in which the male actor plays human role while many, if not most, female actresses play as aliens, sir."

When the AI finished, the Captain only had a single word in his mind: _Sh*t_. Next to him, the (female) sergeant of the ceremonial guard summed it up, muttering something about men thinking with the place between their legs. She was partially correct to say the least, and none of the troopers had the guts to contradict her idea. After all, it was highly likely that they contributed to that sudden increase.

It turned out that the news about aliens had already spread far and wide on the station. When he was walking past some janitors, he overheard them betting on how these aliens looked like. So far, they thought these ETs were either green-skin or bird-like. But it was still far saner than the thought of a Marine private in the squad. He said out loud about these aliens would look like a "cross-breed" between human and cat, or "neko" in the vocabulary of the _otakus_. Needless to say, he received a friendly beat down from the squad. Again.

Yet, he thought the ceremony marines should be the sanest among the Federation Armed forces.

The countdown on his Heads-up Display reached zero. Now, Dock 11 had been vacuumed, or opened fully to space. Despite the progress of technology, humans still failed to make a workable energy shield capable of separating breathable air and vacuum. Hence, every time a Mech-suit or a ship needed to be launched, or when the gate was opened, the air inside would be vented to avoid any unnecessary material loss. It was troublesome that all mechanics not equipped with hard suits would have to be evacuated from the area during the launching sequence before going back to work. The transition time would be an obvious hinder to the overall efficiency of the station, but at least there were only a few manual docks on the station. Most of them were controlled by AI or "ran-by-wire" by human operators behind a thick glass.

Coming out of the waiting room and into the dock, Leo turned his gaze outside. He saw nothing but pitch black, but knew that it was a simply trick of physics. The light of the docks was too strong, dimming out all of the weaker lights from the distant stars, but that did not help him much. He just got a feeling that the black void he saw was just like the human's future, either unknown or unlucky. That thought did not help him much, and he just remained silent. Next to him, both Lieutenant Commander Nguyen and Major Silva were doing the same. Both probably had no idea for what to speak of. The only man making any sounds (or appearing on) was the Professor, but if the translation program was correct, Associate Professor Banerjia was praying in his mother tongue. It could have been more melodic if the situation did not feel like a live-or-die situation.

That image alone freaked him out than most. Among the station's crew, the professor was the most skeptical, and if he had suddenly turned religious... well, it meant that something really wrong was about to happen. It was not a helpful thought.

Grunting again, he focused his sight on the coming ship. The only good grace of the situation was that no shots had been exchanged, so far. Knowing human history, that fact might change soon, which again worried him. In addition, as a concern, the four new frigates just remained where they were. If Leo had to guess, the first ship, was at a higher end of corvette-class and served as a scout, while the latter four were either the heavy hitters or the big-boss transport. Hopefully he could find the answer soon.

The voice of Commander Cho suddenly sounded in his helmet. "Sir, I just noticed that the first ship, designated Alfa-1, has slowed down. They appear to having trouble docking. I am requesting permission to launch three Mech-suit units. Serina advised me that it was the optimum number of this situation."

"Granted. Send the three best men on the station: _Kilo Victor_ , _Daniels_ and _Shpagin_ right?"

"Yes sir, and _Imperium_ is their controller."

"Alright, send them out. Please tell them how much... calm is needed."

"Yes sir. Observer: out."

Leo sighed, almost not wanting to ask what could go wrong.

* * *

"Jack, Yuri, get in the FAP. Liang, go to the control room. We have a job to do!"

"WHAT?" all seven people in the room screamed back when Vuong put down his phone. Not surprising when half of them were fake-sleeping and the other half was playing poker.

With the appearance of the aliens, the team of old friends was ordered to relocate inside, in case the newcomers turned out to be warmongers. However, Vuong thought that it was unlikely. Shooting at men right next to another species' station was less than productive, especially when this was a first contact scenario. Shooting meant war, and war was something not many people wanted. Though, no matter how he looked at it, he was an enlisted man now, and the commander had issued an order.

"We are being sent out to guide the alien ship in. Orders from the top."

"Are you sure?"

"Well, it's an order from the Commander so... Of course I'm sure you bloody idiot. Now hurry up or that cold bitch gonna have my arse burnt."

Mentioning Commander Chu was more than enough to wake his sorry friends up. In just thirty seconds, they went from being lazy young men, which were quite a common sight to him, to highly energised Mech-operators. It did not surprise him at all. While being highly competent, she was not exactly a friendly face to the station's crew. There was more than one occasion where she literally crashed a make-shift party with her shear presence, partially because that the men joining the said party should be working.

Eight men rushed out of the room while putting on their uniforms and grabbing what they need. Three men with under suits, one with the officer coat, and four with orange mechanics jumpsuit. In just a few minutes, they reached the "garage". Three Mechs, each was three meters in height and over 2.5 tons. Despite their compact size, their power output were equivalent to a main battle tank of the mid-21st century at roughly 2000hp (horsepower) or nearly 1500kW. It was achievable thanks to a giant fuel cell at the back of the machine.

Despite having a humanoid appearance of two arms, two hands (each had five fingers) and two legs (the feet was solid though), there was no clear distinguishing feature between the head and the torso. Instead, there was simply a reinforce-bullet-proof glass (somehow, it was economical enough to withstand the vacuum of space and producible in the same time) acting as a report hub in the same time. Thanks to it, the operator could gaze around with their own eyes when they got bored, which was more frequent than what they wanted to admit.

Regarding the control system, it was one of the key features of the FAP (yes, they copied the whole name from the anime, no, the designers did not feel sorry for that): instead of sticks, pedals and buttons, the cockpit of the Mech was designed with four "braces" at the centre. The movement of FAP was simply the amplified copy of the pilot's movements (hence the name) as the pilot had his/her arms and legs strapped to those four braces. While not entirely convenient, the system was quite simple in principle and worked well enough for mass-production. For the _Pioneer_ model that the three operators were using, the FAP was also equipped with various "holes" and "rails" for extra modifications in case of special requirements.

Like when guiding an alien ship into the docking position.

Five mechanics of the team surrounded the three FAPs and installed two minor jet boosters on the back of each Mech. While the overall design of the cockpit was simple, the details inside were not. On manual control, there were six to eight smaller "buttons" installed in the "hand" section of the brace, the exact number varied from suit to suit, depending on the control level on each finger of the pilot. For example, while Vuong could independently bend all of his fingers 90 degree, Jack or Yuri could only bend eight. However, for this task, eight fingers were more than enough for fine control of the boosters.

After putting on his hard suit, Vuong stepped into his machine. The glass dome closed with a slight hiss, signalling that the cockpit chamber had been pressurized against vacuum. Taking deep breaths while his eyes were closed, he was still able to faintly hear the warning alarm of venting outside, with a slight shudder told him that the process had been completed.

"Control, this is Operator Tran Kien Vuong, call-sign Kilo Victor, ID number PAC-Mango-One-Two-Niner, permission for takeoff, guidance mission, and team leader. Over"

"Control, this is Operator Jack Turner, call-sign Daniel, ID number USNA-Mango-Two-Five-Sigma, permission for takeoff, guidance mission, over."

"Control, this is Operator Yuri Shopankov, call-sign Shpagin, ID number FEER-Mango-One-Five-Lambda, permission for takeoff, guidance mission. Over."

"Mech-suit Team, this is Control, you are clear for take-off. Remember, take it slow and easy."

"Control, this is Kilo Victor, copy that. Requesting guidance toward the ship."

"Mech-suit Team, Control. Wilco."

"Mech-suit Team Alfa-One. Set the Mag-rail at 1.7G and activate it on my mark. Mark."

As soon as he finished the word, the entire Mech shuddered under the acceleration. Bending the knee to lower the Pioneer's centre of gravity, Vuong did his best to keep his back straight, which was quite hard under 1.7G acceleration. He was just thankful that the time was less than two seconds, allowing the three men to quickly regain control for delicate movement.

Once outside in space, they activated their stabilizers, which were the boosters on the arms and legs. As practiced, they did not lose much time before being able to stabilize in less than one minute. After that, a female voice sounded on their comm net, along with a blue holo-image appeared on their screen. It was Serina, and it seemed that she was also tasked with guiding these newcomers.

"Team Minerva, please follow the beacon on your display to reach the alien ship. Current distance: 2.017km, planned movement road: 3.31km. Begin when you are ready, operators. I will provide further support for you in this mission. Serina: out."

True to her words, a tunnel of sorts appeared and made a series of holo-images on screen. It was not too different from the training model that all of them had been used to. Next to them are a few data numbers that Vuong decided to put aside for now. They were, as he believed, non-essential for the moment, making them time and brain-consuming. It was correct, at least until when he got stuck in an accident.

Nevertheless, he still activated his main thrusters, moving the Mech-suit along the required route. Moving in space was quite different from driving a car or plane. While a car or plane needed constant power input to keep moving, there was no need to do that in space. Other than the minimum power requirements of life-support and guidance, and for emergency situations, the reactor of the _Pioneer_ actually had a pretty light load. The operator only had to ramp up the power when he needed to activate the thrust.

The inertia of the suit would be maintained forever, but a boost too strong, it would see the Mech slamming down somewhere, while a boost too weak would take too long time to reach a target. An unbalanced combination of boosts meant someone would see the entire world spinning (literally) in his eyes. This was one of the reasons why Mechs were also equipped with AI ports, and if the hunch of Vuong was correct, it would be used now.

"Tran-sama, Turner-san, Shopankov-san (3), I will be providing assistance for Mech team Alfa-One today. I hope we have a successful job."

Yep, it was her, on the dot. Yukio, a third-generation AI coming from an island once known as Japan, and now part of the PAC. Her sweat and melodic voice more than once, made a few of the more... perverted members of the crew to fantasise some kinky ideas. In addition, her appearance only added the fuel to the fire. Having sleek dark hair and a "killer figure", she was said to be one of the most beautiful AIs, in no small part thanks to her always present kimono. If someone came from the early-21st century, they would probably consider her as a good (or beautiful) stereotype of Japan.

While many aspects of Japanese cultured had died out, including the way of referring different people, its records was still preserved in databases across the Federation. It also probably explained why a few PAC AIs used this way of addressing others. They either had a quirky personality, made randomly when they were "born", or they simply found it "cool".

However, in Yukio's case, she just wanted to prank Vuong after _that_ incident.

"OK Yukio, thanks for your help. _Daniels_ , take lead, _Shpagin_ , you go last. Questions?"

" _Nyet_."

"No, man."

"Ok, three second burn on boosters, half power on my mark. Mark."

Three Mechs formed a line and moved along the required route. Thanks to their experience from mech training, being specialists from their own respective militaries and working time on the station, the deviation was quite small, less than 8% - compared to the average 15%. That also was before Yukio stepped in and make necessary changes to fine tune the actions of each operator. It turned out that she had the personality of a perfectionist like the team leader, just at a higher degree. Thanks goodness that she also knew humour, though it was often at Vuong's expense.

After coming around the station, the image of the alien ship appeared on the Mech's display. Vuong request an enhanced image on the ship, just for the sake of curiosity. What he saw might or might not give more questions than answers. First off, the ship was white instead of grey or black like human ships. That meant two plausible ideas, either they had white-coloured material that was tough enough to make starships, or this was not a warship. Paint would be too impractical so that was out-of-the-question... Unless the aliens had too much resources to burn.

Secondly, the size of the ship was roughly 200m, so it would be classified as a heavy corvette by human standards, but more details about capabilities were need to put them down correctly. However, from what he could see, there were no visible weapon turrets or pods, meaning that this vessel may not be a warship, but that didn't mean there were hidden systems. Even if they had any, Serina and the station should be able to spot and warn them before thing got worse. Hopefully anyway.

The next part was the speed and manoeuvrability of the vessel. It appeared that this ship was as sleek as a heavy fighter, the ones he knew of at least, and could move faster than ships of the same tonnage of Terran Federation. In a fight, being at a higher state of readiness meant they would have an edge, but... No, better leave that to the brass. Vuong was just an engineer with a hobby of researching military and warfare, though he preferred ground combat over space. Forcing him to comment on a potentially armed alien vessel was like trying to make a cat mimicking the "talking" ability of a parrot.

Still, it would be good to know a bit more...

Rings after rings, the distance leading to the alien ship went down significantly. First 1.5, then 1.3, 1.2, and in a few moments, the number reached less than 500m. A warning chirp went off in Vuong's cockpit, forcing him to further focus more. The white alien ship appeared in front of the team, and taking a glance at the arms where the new vacuum pumps were installed, he spoke out loud:

" _Daniels_ , apply the pump on the upper port side of the ship, _Shpagin_ , on the lower starboard side. I'll take the bow. Yukio, I presume that it is the simplest, and probably the most efficient way, for this situation. Is that correct?"

"Correct Tran-sama. However, I'd recommend Turner-san and Shopankov-san position themselves at roughly three-quarters of the way down the ship. From the data I've gathered, that is the most recommendable place for balance control and speed."

"You heard the lady. _Imperium_ , I want you to guide me to the Dock. Copy?"

"Kilo Victor, I understand. Relax man, we've been doing this s*** for long enough already."

"Yeah, two years... OK team, current distance: 400m. Activate thrusters; one-tenth thrust, point five second burn. I want to have this done quickly men."

Three Mech-suits sped up, increasing the velocity of each one. In a few moments, they reached the ship and quickly deployed as planned earlier. The suits with Jack and Yuri turned around slightly, and Vuong waited until they had attached the electro-magnetic clamps.

The clamps working meant that the hull material, the outer layer at least, still reacted with magnetic field, just like normal star ships of human. It was fortunate since if they didn't they might have had to find a different method of towing the vessel. Vuong logged that piece of information. After receiving confirmation from his two teammates after they attaching the clamps and successfully landing, the order to return to base, was given from Command, or from a certain Commander.

Then, both _Daniels_ and _Shpagin_ activated their thrusters at maximum output, releasing 80% of the remaining gas in three seconds. The alien ship, with three humanoid figures on it, approached the station at a respectable speed. However, the route going back was as boring as the first one, meaning that Vuong had to find something to kill time.

That was when his eyes caught something on the alien ship.

The bow section had more than two shades of white. In addition, none of them looked bright-white. Some looked ivory-white while some were more of a grey-ish white. That showed that this ship had been in use for a long time and had not received and major maintenance. While the same thing could also be said for some Terran ships, they were never this severe. Moreover, this told him that there were more than what he could see. Even if the maintenance was not at its best, there was no reason why these plates were in such a questionable condition. Scanning around plate by plate, he tried to look for a clue.

It was time consuming, but he found what he had hoped for. A small section, no more than a meter in dimensions, was missing, and revealing a deeper part of the hull section... and there was more than one hole.

Damaged hull-plates? That could spell disaster, but why did they not fix that? _Could it be?..._

"Control, this is _Kilo Victor_ , we may or may not have a may or may not small problem..."

* * *

 **Location:**

Turian Citadel Fleet Command

Citadel

Serpent Nebula

 **Date:**

14th March, 2727 (Galactic Standard)

09:35 (Station/Local time)

A Turian officer sitting in his office frowned at the report he just received. While the issue was not exactly major, it was not something he could neglect. It was a problem that could concern the security of the Citadel Council, and by extension, the power of the Turians. If there was any task that a Turian was willing to die for, it would be to keep their home safe.

It was a pity that something enjoyed making everything difficult.

It was not the Batarians, at least not on an insane level. They were still operating as normal, with a small slave raid every four to six weeks and a pirate attack every two months or so. It was not a major threat nor aimed at any significant target, and the casualties were projected to be low. In addition, rumours went around that some SPECTREs sent undesirables to certain locations in order to get rid of them. Long story short, some bulls*** politics above his pay grade.

However, this problem was possibly in need of urgent attention because the _politics_ demanded it. The Quarians had disappeared. Well, not completely, but the number of recorded encounters with them had decreased significantly. It was enough for the normal civilian to consider them gon, but for a Turian officer of the Fleet, the whole situation smelled...like a pile of _pyjak_ 's crap. Those _suit rats_ fled as soon as the patrol units jumped in an area. No communications, no pleading, nothing at all, and they just discharged their eezo core and left.

Moreover, the Quarians on... what did they call it again? Pilgrim? No, it was... pilgrimage, right, _Pilgrimage_. A few of the Quarians on their Pilgrimage remained in any known quantity in Council space, and even that was only known after using information from the Shadow Broker. Some of the more... motivated officers of the fleet had tried to stop and captured them, but those _suit rats_ managed to keep silent, even under the threat of suit punctures. The nerve of them! Spirits, one of them was even reported to have committed suicide as soon as he was questioned.

It meant they were up to something, something that he must find out, and then, figure out whether or not to put them under trial and later, in a cell (or preferably, leave them rotting in a prison somewhere, and it was not like he particularly cared about it) - as they _should_ be. He may know the just right people for this job.

A _highly-motivated_ pair of SPECTREs, one Turian and one Asari, named Drutis Abberion and Halri Januudo respectively. Bond-mates, comrades, former Blackwatch and Commandos.

Raising his omni-tool, he sent a short message to these two people, knowing that he would receive a full report in less than two weeks, along with a few Quarian Admirals in chains, hopefully.

* * *

(1) His given name (Dung) is pronounced as Dzung, with a slighter "J" than the one in "Jack"

(2) It was actually said in a comedy show a few years back in VietNam. I forgot the exact year it was said though...

(3) According to Google, -san can be roughly translated as "Mr." in this case, and -sama is more formal, used to address someone in higher ranking (and some anime/manga can translate it as "master")

* * *

 **As usual, constructive criticism is welcomed.**

 **Thanks for reading my story.**

* * *

 **Second edit on 31 December 2016 - Thanks Captain Reynolds for his help**


	4. Chapter 3 - Edited

**Hmm... Something broken on Fanfiction server. Somehow for a few days, I wasn't see new reviews any more, even when the notice is still sent to my mailbox and the new number is still shown. And for some freaking reasons, these new reviews weren't "categorised" for each chapter any more. I believe that some filthy xenos did this in order to stop me from spreading the rightful idea that human is the master of the galaxy.**

 **Fear not, my fellow, because the Emperor protects us.**

 **That being said, the problem was fixed already. I'm overwhelm with your support: 2560 reads, 10 reviews, 51 follows and 32 favourites. Thank you very much my loyal readers. Your actions gave me strength to continue writing.**

 **It was a pity that my bike was stolen recently. Damm thief... And it got cold recently in Netherlands, my nose got runny for the entire Thursday. I was too tired and too lazy to cook dinner that day. Cost me 10 euros for a good meal out, which is costly for an international student.**

 **Nevertheless, I shall reply the new reviews here:**

 **Apollonir: Well... yes, the First Contact Scenario is partially inspired by "The Meek shall inherit the Galaxy". For the record, this story was finished (and it was quite well-written). However, I'd beef up the human power compared to what in this story (mostly because we're humans). And for the station's AI, her name is Serina, inspired by the AI with the same name from Halo franchise (Halo Wars). Try to imagine her speaking in a posh British accent and wear an office uniform (blazer and skirt)**

 **Magnusvictor: Welcome to the 2200s, where we practically use magic compared to 2016-standard. In theory, laser communication can transmit all kind of data (using the good old traditional binary code as base). According to Wikipedia, we were able to send 175MB (about 15 minutes of 480p video) in 3.5 seconds from ground to space in 2005. Imagine what we would be able to do in 200 years. And please note that I leave the human spending 50 years trying to out-smart and out-kill each other...**

 **Gyre: While the mainstay of the Turian attitude toward Quarian is more like "Don't mess, and we won't f*** you up", some of the more... _extreme_ officer take it to the new level. Somewhere closed to the attitude of Nazi Germany to the Jews, the Slavs, the gypsy... before and during WW2 (and we all know what happened)**

 **ExS-DrIfTeRr: Well, I'm planning to find a beta, do you know any one?**

 **OBSERVER01: Of course it's interesting, the author, may or may not, write this story when hyped on sugar (a few cups of tea with lots of sugar can do that)**

* * *

 **I found out some mistakes in the previous chapters, mostly for spelling (Serina's name) and the time frame. I'd adjust them a bit so there is a "set" standard of time. From now on, Coordinated Universal Time (UCT) is set as Greenwich mean time (GMT) on Earth. This time is also the "standard" time for every Terran Federation's assets (planets, stations, asteroids...)**

 **For the disclaimer, I consult the blog "Future War Stories" for many features of "future tech", including the method for sub-light speed movement. I'll try to make the story "as real as possible" while still being vague enough (especially when talking to the aliens) to further the impression of _Humanity F*** yeah!_**

 **Speaking of which, should I use _Baba Yetu_ (theme song for Civilisation IV) or any other for human's anthem? I just check out _Sogno di Volare_ (theme song for Civilisaion VI), it's quite good too. This song would be sung together after we beat the crap out of the Turian (and remember the Victory Parade, I'm thinking about recreating it. And guess which Victory Parade I'm talking about)**

 **While I personally prefer _Baba Yetu_ (better music), _Sogno di Volare_ (according to one Youtube comment) is more badass. To quote  
** _'For those of you measuring this song up to Baba Yetu, there really is no comparison. Baba Yetu celebrates all our accomplishments. Sogno di Volare celebrates all our accomplishments yet to Yetu bathes in the glory of the past. Sogno di Volare bathes in the glory of the future. Baba Yetu says, "Look how high we've come." Sogno di Volare says, "But we can go higher."Both songs equally sing upon the praises of Civilization, one celebrates the past, the other celebrates the future. They are both masterpieces in their own right.'_

 **Without further delay, please enjoy the new chapter.**

* * *

 **Acronym** **:**

TF: Terran Federation  
USNA: United States of North America  
FEER: Federation of Eastern Europe Republic  
PRUC: People's Republic of United China  
PAC: Pan-Asian Coalition  
EU: European Union  
DRI: Democratic Republic of India  
SAA: South American Alliance  
AMEA: Africa - Middle East Alliance

ISIO: Institute of Special and Intelligence Operation

TFSV: Terran Federation Space Vessel (civilian ships or ships that- _must-not-belong_ -to-military)  
TFNV: Terran Federation Navy Vessel (military ships)

CIC: Combat Information Centre  
MPDT: Magneto-plasma-dynamics thrusters  
MHDT: Magneto-hydrogen-dynamics thrusters  
ECM: Electronic Counter Measure  
ODST: Orbital Drop Shock Trooper

* * *

 **Location:**  
Presidential Chamber  
Arcturus Station  
Lagrangian point 5 - Themis gas giant - Arcturus system

 **Date:**  
January 15, 2200 (Terran calendar)  
0600 (Earth time)

As a by-product from the Cold War of 20th century and World War III of 21st century, the Terran Federation government could be described as somewhere between paranoid and insane. At least, for the ones who knew about the contingency plans, and because there were so many, sometimes they would get stuck somewhere as a part of the endless bureaucratic machine, done by both AI and human operators. Needless to say, the citizens were not particularly happy about it, but what they did not know was that at least a billion souls had been saved by such "in-efficiency". More than five terrorist rings, three pirate fleets, and twenty religious extremist cults, were destroyed. That was _before_ he took black-ops into account.

However, that did not mean the contingency plans took into account the mood of the ones involved. For example, right now, half of the National Security Council was having a "what the f*** did I just read" moment while the other half was staring at their coffee, wondering if they should add something stronger. While it would be normal for many to do that, such men like Minister of Defense or the Director of ISIO (Institute of Special and Intelligence Operations) to do such a thing, meant the situation was either bizarre, or highly depressing.

For example, First Contact with a potentially peaceful race, with a potential low-quality equipment.

President James Tiberius Kirk (and he earned the nickname "I hate Gene Roddenberry" while still in high school) mused over the report again. It appeared that the Mech-operator was spot on. Scanning via all known methods confirmed that all five ships were of a considerable age. The "newest" of them, which was the first one that had entered the system, was roughly 80 years old while the "oldest" was nearly 150 years. To the full extent of his knowledge, there was only thing as durable as them was the (in)famous _Avtomat Kalashnikova_ , or the AK-47 (and its modernised variant: AKM).

Brought into service in (old) USSR in 1948, the rifle saw multiple conflicts in the hands of both good and bad throughout the 20th and 21st Centuries. According to a document recovered in Nigeria in 2098, at least three hundred AK-47s could be traced back to the Soviet Union, _in the 1950s_. That information meant there were a minimum of 300 AK-47s as old as 150 years being used in active frontline combat. After that information was released, sales of JSC Kalashnikov Concern rose significantly. After all, the guns they were selling, in theory, could operate up to 150 years and beyond. Meanwhile, the price of the guns were cheaper compared to their "counterparts" from Colt or Heckler  & Koch. Until these days, 250 years after the birth of that legendary gun, no firerm had ever surpassed AK-47 in terms of durability.

President Kirk stopped this train of thought, wondering how he went from an old space vessel to the most durable assault rifle known in human history. Shoving those thoughts aside, he tried to focus on the problem at hand.

To sum everything up, there were five aliens ship for first contact. So far, the event was peaceful, and Intelligence confirmed that all of these five ships were very old. The agent responsible for that job even gave a hand-written note that his family's heirloom was even younger than their ships. The main question was what they would do after the meeting. Captain Leonardo Vincent had invited the first alien ship to dock with the station, and he was going to see how things went from there. However, sooner or later, the government would have to release this information to everyone.

The reasoning was simple. The evacuation process had been initiated, the comm buoys for instant communication with Shanxi had been shut down, and it would be a matter of time before the first wave of citizens from Shanxi arrived on the nearest colony, a planet named Aurora. Worse, news about a comm buoy "going dark" would be on every new station in a few hours at most. Providing they were lucky enough.

"So, gentlemen, the question remains: What should we do now? I reckon that we have 24 hours, at most, to delay the press conference." He asked his fellowmen, but not fully expecting an answer immediately. Hell, this situation was highly delicate, and with one wrong step and they could either spark riots across the Federation, initiate a first contact war, or both. Back when the Prothean ruins had been discovered on Mars, religious riots broke out, and anti-religious protests sprung up in return. It took the Federation a full month to bring things back to normal.

Now, they had met aliens; real, live aliens. The chance for societal unrest was still very high, despite the passing of three quarters of a century. The wording of the press release had to be careful; not too much, but not too little.

Every man in the room stayed silent, until the cold voice of the Intelligence Director sprung up. "According to the report, the Captain there... Leonardo Vincent, has already invited the crew of the first ship, call sign Xtra-One, on board the station for... further discussions. So far, it seems that the situation is still calm. Both sides are trading information, languages mostly, for further study. I recommend sending one ship to conduct electronic intelligence operation."

As usual, they could rely on the intelligence director to suggesting something crazy, sinister, or both, but no one there could blame him. It was his job to be like that. His _unique_ position required him to take measures, whatever they would be, to ensure the safety of the Federation. They might not be the most "ethical", but they were the necessary evils. After all, there would be no light if there was no darkness.

"As long as there is plausible deniability, I say it's a nice option. They are an unknown, Mister President. At the moment, there is no guarantee that they are friendly, or, God forbids, the others are friendly. Having a little access to their systems would be beneficial to the Federation."

"Haiz... Alright, Director, you may proceed. Priority on stealth, if our ship was spotted, get the hell out of there, and remember to mask the trail. I don't want a war. Try to find out about their people, and why they are still using such crappy hull. Who spotted it initially?" asked the President.

"A Mech-Operator, sir. A civilian specialist who enlisted as part of PAC Armed forces. As an interesting note, Blue Box told me that he was the ex-boyfriend to an intelligence officer's daughter."

That got most of the official in the room raised their eyebrows. The Director of ISIO just put a hologram on the desk, signaling his AI, Blue Box, to show everyone the file on said operator. A young man from PAC, whose first girlfriend had a father working for ISIO branch in PAC. Enthusiastic in studying of ground warfare in Eastern Front of World War 2 and the Asia-Pacific Front of World War 3. He had fairly knowledgeable on some of the un-said rules of politicians and diplomats. ISIO had tried to recruit him years ago, but he refused, saying that he was content with what he had and did not enjoy a secretive life. However, it was strongly believed that he had passed some of his analysis to his ex-girlfriend's father about some dissident movements, which may or may not lead to some arrests and disappearances.

Many of the National Security Council members showed their amusement reading this. In more than one way, this young man represented the best and the worst of humanity: peaceful, yet knowledgeable in warfare; curious, yet secretive; and loyal, yet pragmatic. If the man had a little more experience, they would send him as an ambassador to meet these aliens.

On the other hand, the man still had some merits. He was the one to "tow" the alien ship inside. With cockpit of the Mech-suit made of crystal-clear glass, it was almost guaranteed that his face had seen. That meant there was a chance the aliens knew his face and regarded it as a friendly one. However, Colonel Vincent had confirmed that he had refused the offer, citing the absence of both experience and skills. Fitting, really, since that was the same line of thought of the President.

Nevertheless, it was a good news to know that humanity still had many geniuses hiding in plain sight. If things went south, they would need all kinds of talent.

Sighing, President Kirk ordered the deployment of a spy corvette. Then, he and the National Security Council turned to a contingency plan titled: CODE COBRA. Knowing humanity's history, it was always safe to have one, just in case.

* * *

 **Location:**

Presidential Chamber

Arcturus Station

Lagrangian point 5 - Themis gas giant - Arcturus system

 **Date:**

January 15, 2200 (Terran calendar)

0600 (Earth time)

As a by-product from the Cold War of 20th century and World War III of 21st century, the Terran Federation government could be described as somewhere between paranoid and insane. At least, for the ones who knew about the contingency plans, and because there were so many, sometimes they would get stuck somewhere as a part of the endless bureaucratic machine, done by both AI and human operators. Needless to say, the citizens were not particularly happy about it, but what they did not know was that at least a billion souls had been saved by such "in-efficiency". More than five terrorist rings, three pirate fleets, and twenty religious extremist cults, were destroyed. That was _before_ he took black-ops into account.

However, that did not mean the contingency plans took into account the mood of the ones involved. For example, right now, half of the National Security Council was having a "what the f*** did I just read" moment while the other half was staring at their coffee, wondering if they should add something stronger. While it would be normal for many to do that, such men like Minister of Defense or the Director of ISIO (Institute of Special and Intelligence Operations) to do such a thing, meant the situation was either bizarre, or highly depressing.

For example, First Contact with a potentially peaceful race, with a potential low-quality equipment.

President James Tiberius Kirk (and he earned the nickname "I hate Gene Roddenberry" while still in high school) mused over the report again. It appeared that the Mech-operator was spot on. Scanning via all known methods confirmed that all five ships were of a considerable age. The "newest" of them, which was the first one that had entered the system, was roughly 80 years old while the "oldest" was nearly 150 years. To the full extent of his knowledge, there was only thing as durable as them was the (in)famous _Avtomat Kalashnikova_ , or the AK-47 (and its modernised variant: AKM).

Brought into service in (old) USSR in 1948, the rifle saw multiple conflicts in the hands of both good and bad throughout the 20th and 21st Centuries. According to a document recovered in Nigeria in 2098, at least three hundred AK-47s could be traced back to the Soviet Union, _in the 1950s_. That information meant there were a minimum of 300 AK-47s as old as 150 years being used in active frontline combat. After that information was released, sales of JSC Kalashnikov Concern rose significantly. After all, the guns they were selling, in theory, could operate up to 150 years and beyond. Meanwhile, the price of the guns were cheaper compared to their "counterparts" from Colt or Heckler  & Koch. Until these days, 250 years after the birth of that legendary gun, virtually no firearm had ever surpassed AK-47 in terms of durability.

President Kirk stopped this train of thought, wondering how he went from an old space vessel to the most durable assault rifle known in human history. Shoving those thoughts aside, he tried to focus on the problem at hand.

To sum everything up, there were five aliens ship for first contact. So far, the event was peaceful, and Intelligence confirmed that all of these five ships were very old. The agent responsible for that job even gave a hand-written note that his family's heirloom was even younger than their ships. The main question was what they would do after the meeting. Captain Leonardo Vincent had invited the first alien ship to dock with the station, and he was going to see how things went from there. However, sooner or later, the government would have to release this information to everyone.

The reasoning was simple. The evacuation process had been initiated, the comm buoys for instant communication with Shanxi had been shut down, and it would be a matter of time before the first wave of citizens from Shanxi arrived on the nearest colony, a planet named Aurora. Worse, news about a comm buoy "going dark" would be on every new station in a few hours at most. Providing they were lucky enough.

"So, gentlemen, the question remains: What should we do now? I reckon that we have 24 hours, at most, to delay the press conference."

He asked his fellowmen, but not fully expecting an answer immediately. Hell, this situation was highly delicate, and with one wrong step and they could either spark riots across the Federation, initiate a first contact war, or both. Back when the Prothean ruins had been discovered on Mars, religious riots broke out, and anti-religious protests sprung up in return. It took the Federation a full month to bring things back to normal.

Now, they had met aliens; real, live aliens. The chance for societal unrest was still very high, despite the passing of three quarters of a century. The wording of the press release had to be careful; not too much, but not too little.

Every man in the room stayed silent, until the cold voice of the Intelligence Director sprung up.

"According to the report, the Captain there... Leonardo Vincent, has already invited the crew of the first ship, call sign Xtra-One, on board the station for... further discussions. So far, it seems that the situation is still calm. Both sides are trading information, languages mostly, for further study. I recommend sending one ship to conduct electronic intelligence operation."

As usual, they could rely on the intelligence director to suggesting something crazy, sinister, or both, but no one there could blame him. It was his job to be like that. His _unique_ position required him to take measures, whatever they would be, to ensure the safety of the Federation. They might not be the most "ethical", but they were the necessary evils. After all, there would be no light if there was no darkness.

"As long as there is plausible deniability, I say it's a nice option. They are an unknown, Mister President. At the moment, there is no guarantee that they are friendly, or, God forbids, the others are friendly. Having a little access to their systems would be beneficial to the Federation."

"Haiz... Alright, Director, you may proceed. Priority on stealth, if our ship was spotted, get the hell out of there, and remember to mask the trail. I don't want a war. Try to find out about their people, and why they are still using such crappy hull. Who spotted it initially?" asked the President.

"A Mech-Operator, sir. A civilian specialist who enlisted as part of PAC Armed forces. As an interesting note, Blue Box told me that he was the ex-boyfriend to an intelligence officer's daughter."

That got most of the official in the room raised their eyebrows. The Director of ISIO just put a hologram on the desk, signaling his AI, Blue Box, to show everyone the file on said operator. A young man from PAC, whose first girlfriend had a father working for ISIO branch in PAC. Enthusiastic in studying of ground warfare in Eastern Front of World War 2 and the Asia-Pacific Front of World War 3. He had fairly knowledgeable on some of the un-said rules of politicians and diplomats. ISIO had tried to recruit him years ago, but he refused, saying that he was content with what he had and did not enjoy a secretive life. However, it was strongly believed that he had passed some of his analysis to his ex-girlfriend's father about some dissident movements, which may or may not lead to some arrests and disappearances.

Many of the National Security Council members showed their amusement reading this. In more than one way, this young man represented the best and the worst of humanity: peaceful, yet knowledgeable in warfare; curious, yet secretive; and idealist, yet pragmatic. If the man had a little more experience, they would send him as an ambassador to meet these aliens.

On the other hand, the man still had some merits. He was the one to "tow" the alien ship inside. With cockpit of the Mech-suit made of crystal-clear glass, it was almost guaranteed that his face had seen. That meant there was a chance the aliens knew his face and regarded it as a friendly one. However, Colonel Vincent had confirmed that he had refused the offer, citing the absence of both experience and skills. Fitting, really, since that was the same line of thought of the President.

Nevertheless, it was a good news to know that humanity still had many geniuses hiding in plain sight. If things went south, they would need all kinds of talent.

Sighing, President Kirk ordered the deployment of a spy corvette. Then, he and the National Security Council turned to a contingency plan titled: CODE COBRA. Knowing humanity's history, it was always safe to have one, just in case.

* * *

 **Location:**

TFSV _Midnight_

Vessel number [REDACTED]

Station [REDACTED]

Kursk System

Federation of Eastern Europe Republic, Terran Federation

 **Date:**

January 15, 2200 (Terran calendar)

0625 (Earth time)

Captain Sander Shepard had received an order from the Director himself. His real-time location was always a highly-guarded, above the top secret level. The order was short and standard, as usual: Take the ship to these coordinates, conduct an intelligence gathering operation against aliens, make sure tha—

ALIENS?

Sander had to read the order again, just to be sure. ISIO was not well-known for their humour, and the last time someone tried to prank the Institute was when it was formed by a bunch of young and seemingly inexperienced officers. Everyone was surprise by their retaliation. Something about a disproportionate response being the main point brought up. He was pretty sure that they had broken several laws and regulations to find the culprits, with something about unfortunate accidents brought up. Nearly 100 years had passed but the cold, professional, and deadly manner of the Institute was still the same.

So, the chance for "meeting aliens" to be a joke was quite low. That meant humanity had actually met aliens. Now, it was up to the _Midnight_ to make sure that humanity would have an upper hand. Their orders was to gather intelligence on the alien vessel, preferably by infiltrating their system and uncovering valuable information.

Just like Mom said, he would see the aliens if he join the Navy. He really hated that when she was correct.

Putting a hand over the forehead, Sander called out loud, "Roland, sound the call. I want primary bridge crew at their stations immediately, tell them Danger Level: Black if you have to. Time is crucial here."

A male voice replied with a no-nonsense attitude, "Yes sir. All senior crew members have been informed. Do you have any more commands, sir?"

"No, but thanks for asking Roland... On the second thought, tell them that the situation is not normal, and I fail to find the correct adjective to describe it."

"Roger that. Is there anything else, sir?"

"No, I'll go to the bridge now. Meet you there Roland."

Sighing again, Sander stood up from his comfortable seat in Captain's cabin and went to the elevator. As much as he liked to take his time, this mission did not allow him to do that. Putting his back on the elevator's wall, he mused over the fact again. Roughly 90 minutes ago, at 0500 Earth time, a meeting with aliens (the real ones, not green men from Mars) took place on a battle station in the Zhusanjiao System, a frontier system administrated by PRUC. So far, the meeting was going smoothly, no heated words, no guns fired, yet. The key word for that, was _yet_.

The paranoia of Terran Federation seemed to believe that these aliens could attack, or other aliens if they did not.

His boss wanted to be prepared, and to have contingency plans. They would need some intelligence gathering vessels, which was what classification his ship fell under. Being stationed on the fringe of the TF's border, his was probably the nearest vessel. That being said, it would be ridiculous to send just one. More would arrive after him, preferably silently and stealthily. The last thing he wanted was to trigger a new war.

Still... The weight of responsibilities felt heavy on his shoulders. His crew of thirty... this would be their first time their lives were being put on the line. One wrong move and... He was hoping things would not come to that. The only good thing so far was the music in the elevator, it was quite nice actually. Smooth and soothing music after (or before) a long hard day on duty. At least the Navy was still able to do something right. The elevator opened up with a high "ping", and Sander quickly moved to the bridge.

His XO, a Lieutenant Commander named Miranda Lawson, quickly stood at attention and announced:

"Captain on deck!"

Everyone on the bridge stood at attention, which Sander quickly told them to stand at ease. She was a good, if not the "perfect" executive officer, having graduated from the Naval Academy with top scores and selected into ISIO thanks to her talents five years ago. Sander still found it difficult to find any flaw with her. She was too "perfect", from her appearance (nice racks and good ass) to her academic knowledge (she had at least one Ph.D. degree somewhere). As far as he knew, she only have three drawbacks: she did not know how to cook, how to ride a bike and an immense fear of spiders. Still, having a good second-in-command meant tremendous help in his job.

Glancing toward the bow, his eye caught the unruly hair of Jeff "Joker" Moreau, the ship's helmsman. Despite being a bit of a maverick and a daredevil, he was a good-natured man with a soft heart. Having a beautiful wife and daughter must have a great effect on a one-time bully of high school. It was a pity that his choice of music was the worst on ship. No one could understand why he enjoy listening to jazz music. However, no one dared to challenge his taste any more, not after he gave every one a roller coaster ride that one time.

To his right was William Pressley. He was an older man. Old and a certified badass. He was the one responsible for keeping the ship alive and in one piece, especially while operating in hostile territory. From counter piracy raids' reports, it was believed that he had prevented over 2000 incoming missiles and MAC rounds impacting his ships over the past three years. Having him on board was a guarantee that they would come back alive.

Glancing around, Sander noticed that everyone was here. Good, he needed to tell all of them about this. It was time to break the ice.

"Roland, patch me on the speaker, ship-wide. I have an announcement to make."

Taking a deep breath and sipping a bit of water to calm down (again), Sander spoke slowly with a grave voice, to further cement the seriousness of the situation. After all, there was a reason why this operation was rated secret.

" _Midnight_ , this is Captain Shepard speaking. I will keep this as short and sweet as possible. Firstly, we have just received orders from HQ three minutes ago. We are ordered to warp to the Zhusanjiao system and conduct an intelligence gathering operation. This leads to the second part: Ladies and gentlemen, we have made contact with alien civilization in the Zhusanjiao system. HIGHCOM has ordered us to gather information on them, and to make sure that they won't be a threat to humanity. I won't lie to you, we may not come back after this mission. So, if anyone wants to quit, now would be the time. Our ship departs in 10 minutes, so use your time well. This is Shepard, over and out."

The bridge stared at him with intensity. All of them had varying looks on their faces. Some were curious, others shock, or with a few that were confused. It was normal, after all. He had the same reaction, and still had it. Someone once said that humans were either alone in the universe, or not. Both scenarios were equally terrifying.

A Miranda's voice rang out on his left.

"Captain. Order is order, I'll stick with the mission."

"Captain, you'd got lost in your own bathroom, so how could I trust you flying alone with those aliens?" Joker asked, a grin on the man's face.

"Sir, this is Engineering. You know that I have an...interest in aliens right? I mean, what could possibly go wrong? Blue alien chicks?"

"This is the CIC, Captain. We are ready for sail captain. We are trained and paid for this s*** remember?"

"Captain, I was designed to combat alien cyber-attacks, I believe now is the right time to test my capabilities. Speaking of that, our ship is ready, sir. We just need your order."

A smile slowly formed on Sander's face. His crew may not be the elites of the ISIO, they may not be the cream of the crop from either Navy, Army or Assault Corp, but they were the best for the job. Besides, they were _his_ crew. A ship captain could not ask for anything more.

Still grinning like a maniac (which he was), Sander ordered for his ship to leave the dock. The rear view showed the retreating station, a secret one in the possession of ISIO. Everyone looked intensely at the screen, knowing that it would be while until they saw it again.

The ship shuddered when the Magneto-plasma-dynamic thrusters activated. Letting his mind roam, Sander almost failed to hide his smirk. The system was conned as MPDT for short (those eggheads can be lazy when they wanted too), it was once deemed "impractical" due to a high demand of power. Given the concept was developed in the 1960s, it was not a surprise that it was generally turned down in favor of a more "practical" method: Nuclear Pulse Propulsion.

It was a pity that World War 3 had almost bled the world's nuclear arsenal dry (the "weaker ones", at least, it was a god-send that no warheads at mega-ton level had been deployed). It was fortunate that anti-matter reactors had become the main power source of the Terran Federation, followed closely by renewable energy as well as fusion and fission. Which was why it was only a matter of time before some scientists put two and two together and powered the MPDT with an anti-matter core. It did not take too long before further improvements were made on the system.

Less than a century later, the MPDT had practically become the main method of travelling in real/normal space of the Terran Federation. Humanity had clearly made a large step from chemical combustion thrusters to electrically powered propulsion. With the same mass of "fuel", human was able to travel to and from the same planet a few times more than the traditional rockets. Combined with the constant innovations and researches, humanity had brought the MPDT to a whole new level, increasing thrust force and velocity by a degree of 2.5. In the same time, they made a new propulsion system: Magneto-hydrogen-dynamics. It was "too bad" that MHDT was unable to attract the same degree of attention like MPDT (for being "too noisy" and not as efficient as MPDT).

The voice of Roland sounded again, pulling Sander from his trance of thought.

"Captain, we have passed the safety line, proceeding to initiate Warp drive. Your orders?"

"Bring up the stealth system, ECM to maximum level, passive mode, and prep the spy drone. When you're done, tell Joker, we'll warp to our destination."

"Aye aye, Captain."

A few seconds later, a bright blue portal appeared right in front of the ship. If anyone saw this, they would describe it as a blue portal slowly creeping around the ship before it intensified in brightness. Some of the more sensitive eyes would be temporarily blinded by this point, and when they managed to reopened their eyes, the _Midnight_ would have already disappeared. While it might have spelled "disaster" for a man from 21st Century, a citizen of the 23rd Century's Terran Federation knew that the ship was now going through hyperspace.

Granted, that still might even scare people coming from 21st Century, but it was quite safe, with the number of accidents at a very low number, since the operator's manual had been officially approved. However, there were the _unfortunate accidents_ that still happened.

The public knew that they could travel from the Kursk System to the Zhusanjiao System in three days, but the ISIO documented that they could do that in less than 30 hours. However, the Institute had never confirmed nor denied that information since no one had asked (and they intended to keep that as long as possible).

So... Sander mused. Thirty hours before he would met the aliens, and thirty hours he conducted what many would consider hostile actions against them. One wrong move and the blame of a war would be on his shoulders, but if he did not do this... well, there might not be any humans left to fight a war. So he would have to deal with the _lesser_ evil.

For the Motherland huh?

* * *

 **Location:**

Battle Station A-156, _Lee Jufan_ -class (under construction) – Meeting room

10 light-seconds from Mass Relay Theta-T25A

Zhusanjiao System

People's Republic of United China, Terran Federation

 **Date:**

January 15, 2200 (Terran calendar)

0700 (Earth time)

The meeting was still going smoothly. Leonardo had been able to trade some basic information, like the race's designation, or the names of some "important people". The Captain of the ship, Xtra-One, was called Zare Rozu vas Iktomi, his second-in-command was Vilu Huin vas Iktomi. It was interesting to say the least when he found out their ship was also named _Iktomi_. A feature of their culture perhaps? He would have to ask them about that later.

And their suits... Well, they were staying on an alien station. Of course they feared about biological contamination. Who knew about the differences between two races after two hours of meeting? Better safe than sorry.

It was too bad that HIGHCOM was thinking the same idea. They had dispatched a prowler from the Kursk System, scheduled to arrive in about 29 hours and 15 minutes, give or take three minutes. When they arrive, Leonardo's job would be to keep these aliens busy with the diplomatic stuff. It was not an outright lie either, and as it turned out, another ship, was carrying real diplomats for... further discussion. If he did not know better, he would say that the brass on Arcturus wanted to sign some peace and/or non-aggression agreement.

Though for a race that spent practically all of their recorded history trying to wage war on themselves, it sounded quite... stupid. Of course, these aliens did not have to know about that. _Yet_. Preferably if it was confirmed that their military was weaker than that of humanity.

While the Captain was considering the facts and data during their "break time", two Quarians were wandering on the station under the guard of a full squad of ODSTs. Seeing a dozen black-cladded and armoured figures could scare anyone. After all, that was a purpose of the ODST suit originally. The designers wanted to inspire fear in the enemy and awe in the allies. If Leo were honest, he would say that the designers had done a job too well, even after the fiasco of the last two world wars.

* * *

Zare and Vilu eyed everything with interest. Clearly, these _hoo-man_ were no strangers to spacefaring. Their station, and probably their ships too, were not exactly beautiful, and were far from the beautiful curves of the ships he had seen across the galaxy. These ships were built like blocky rectangles. There were no windows and no soothing color. They were just that, plain dark with grey slabs of metal. But Zare knew that there was more than just what meets the eyes. If his sensor readings were correct (which they usually were), these aliens were utilising a different form of travel, and the guns had a potentially higher rate of damage than the others that he knew of.

Moreover, they had even dispatched a flotilla of light cruisers to guard the station being built. That meant they must have more ships somewhere around... within their territory. He had no further information than that, and the commander of the humans here had been avoiding the question about their military capabilities. Only hinting that they would be able to defend themselves, or make the attacker pay for it.

Zare did not know what to make of any of it. The first impression he had of these aliens were peaceful, but the presence of their escorts and military had so far prove otherwise. Would they be like Turians, who shoot first and ask questions later, or were they like the Salarians, who preferred defeating the enemy before the fighting had even started? Too many questions, yet too little data. Still, they appeared to be genuinely surprised and were quite pleasant to have first contact with, if not a bit tense. Maybe a few certain humans could answer him.

Both Zare and Vilu stepped into the elevator to go down to "Dock 10". A soothing music began to play and... _Kee'lah_ , the elevator was twice as fast as the ones on Citadel. Vilu looked a bit dazed, probably losing a bit of his balance. Zare smile slightly at the sight. The elevator opened up with a "ding", and leading the two Quarians to a steel door. Looking to the left, Zare saw that behind the door was a vacuumed chamber, a very _large_ vacuum chamber filled with three... mechs? They called those hulking walking pieces of metal _mechs,_ right?

Eight figures were walking away from the mechs, which were being lifted by a series of automated cranes. Impressive engineering. That, and they have very good VI systems. Even the best programmer he knew would be quite hard pressed to run this crane system with that efficiency. Still, these mechs were very impressive. An agile, modular design and looked simple enough. Zare had a feeling in his gut that these mechs would be extremely helpful to the Fleet. They could run routine and essential maintenance without the need of a spacedock. Granted, having a dock would be easier, but not really a requirement.

Both Quarians had no idea that behind those opaque visors, the ODSTs were glancing at each other. Because their visitors had their helmets on at all time, they could not read the Quarian's facial features, or even know if they had any. That made it difficult to tell if the newcomers were amused, curious or enraged, which was proving troublesome. If anything happened, they would be the first to get a slap in the face.

The door suddenly hissed and the light above it blinked green. After a few seconds, it opened up with a light hiss, revealing a group of young men laughing at each other. One of them standing at the back stared at the Quarians in shock and it did not take long for the team to realise what went "wrong".

They all looked at the two aliens with curiosity filling their eyes. Raze scanned them and realised that with the helmets, it would be difficult to distinguish between such a young human and a Quarian on their Pilgrimage. Granted, humans had five digits on their hands, but give them the correct equipment and suits and they could blend in easily. They were young, but seemed to be well-educated and well-trained yet still refraining because of their inexperienced. By the way Zare saw it, the humans seemed to believe that there was always room for improvements.

From the group, a big bulky man with brown hair turned around with his helmet still in his hand and spoke to the group with a slight accent. His question was translated directly thanks to the VI in his suit.

"So, does anyone here owe them some creds?"

* * *

 **Hope you enjoy this chapter. Please review, as usual, constructive criticism is welcome.**

* * *

 **Second edit on 31 December 2016 - Thanks Captain Reynolds on AlternateHistory forum for his help**


	5. Chapter 4 - Edited

**This week is my "vacation", my mid-term so to speak. And I six exams next week. Six. All of them done in the afternoon. From noon to before dinner. It'd be tough then, I'd be too tired to cook dinner once I reach home...**

 **Thank you for your responses (via reviews) and support. Your actions here are just like real money pay for an online author.**

 **Still, when I was browsing the Internet, I found out that "Iktomi" is actually a Quarian name, mentioned by Admiral Koris after the Tali's trial. Talk about coincident...**

* * *

 **WildKhaine: This chapter will see some minor hostile actions... as in the ones leading to First Contact War. Curp stomp the Turians, and then a bloodbath... You know, war stuff. For the next chapter, at least. Shepard is in this story now because I need someone with big enough balls to rescue the Mech-operator and his Quarian friends**

 **OBSERVER01: Engineering students are not exactly known for their mental stability... Trust me, I'm one of them**

 **IveGotNoIdea: Thanks for your input. But on the relative term, AK-47 is more famous (or infamous) compared to things like M2 Machine gun or Colt 1911. And as I remember, those guns are in the process of being replaced now. Slow, but still... Besides, having a bunch of Angry mob finding AK-47s before rushing towards the _filthy xeno_ would be more... iconic, I guess**

* * *

 **Location:**  
Battle Station A-156, _Lee Jufan_ -class (under construction) – Meeting room  
10 light-second from Mass Relay Theta-T25A  
Zhusanjiao System  
People's Republic of United China, Terran Federation

 **Date:**  
January 28, 2200 (Terran calendar)  
1932 (Earth time)

Life was always full of surprises. There was no way to predict events correctly, even when you had enough data or you were the witness of the whole process. Almost two weeks ago, thirteen days to be exact, humanity made First Contact with a new species, the Quarians. The news caused quite an uproar in humanity's space. For the first time in history, they knew, without a shadow of doubt, that aliens were real. The footage of the meeting, with the first of the aliens' ship being guided inside the station by three mech-suits, along with the conversation between the two aliens and the personnel on board, was becoming one of the top-hits on Youtube. In just a short amount of time, the footage released by the Federation leadership had became the third-most viewed video in the website's history, following closely behind _Gangnam Style_ and the _Debacle of Donald Trump_.

Still, very few people knew about the hidden facts. Like the Federation had been massing ships on the border of the system, that at least three prowlers were conducting intelligence operations, or that a war had almost broken out. Thank goodness that _almost_ was the key word.

Leonardo took another drink of Whiskey while his second-in-command just drowned another glass of Baijiu (1). While images like this was not exactly "approved", the entire the chain-of-command had decided to look the other way as long as it did not interfere with their mission. After all, they had just prevented a first contact war, and it would be nice to receive thanks for their actions. Besides, they were probably doing the same thing all the way up to the President, so it would be hypocritical to prohibit two officers from doing so.

Things had been fine at first, the Captain of Xtra-One, Zare'Rozu vas Iktomi, had shown interest in building a relationship with humanity. However, he had no power to discuss any official treaties. That task belonged to his superior, an Admiral with the name Rael'Zorah vas Qientus. However, as what could be considered unwritten rules of diplomacy, the captain still agreed to receive some cultural gifts, a part of the Terran Federation's courtesies. In addition, the on-board science team was able to provide some nutrient dehydrated gel for the Quarians. It took longer than they initially expect, something about a different amino-acid in their genes: Humans had lextro while the Quarians were dextro-based. It appeared that the Captain was surprised about this, though neither Leo nor Mina could decipher whether or not it them being impressed by their technology, or something else.

It was a real challenge when a ship, called "cruiser" by them, appeared at the Mass Relay with the Admiral. Compared to the previous five ships, it was a giant. At nearly 800 meters in length, and a sphere with a diameter of at least 200m making up the forward section, it dwarfed the previous ships. The first, Xtra-One was at a corvette size of just over 120m while its four squadron mates were at roughly 200m in length. All of them were what would be considered corvettes, though the Quarains referred to them as "frigates". That was the annoying part of meeting aliens. Ship classifications were completely different in each civilisation.

Throughout human history, naval ships, both terrestrial and space variants, would have set differences between the various classes. Especially when their weapon systems were taken into account. Even the smallest space capable craft, a lone fighter, could take down a cruiser with the proper weapons. However, after facing the nightmares of Terran bureaucracy, High Command had decided to standardise vessel classification. The results were that most FTL-capable ships were categorized as capital ships while the rest were auxiliaries. Non-FTL capable craft, such as fighters and fighter-bombers, were carried by capital ships and were used as a way to expand their capabilities. Of course, there _may_ be some fighters and/or bombers capable of FTL travel, but those were just rumors.

For the capital ships, they were classified as corvettes, destroyers, frigates, cruisers and carriers. In addition, there were sub-classes to fill in the gaps between each class and indicate special capabilities. Many believed the Federation should have some battleships, but history had shown that those ships were not exactly... lucky or worth the resources used to build them. Hence, the idea of a heavy capital ship was discarded. Classifying non-FTL spacecraft was purely dictated by their missions: fighters, fighter-bombers, terrestrial strikecraft, gunships and dropships.

The Quarians' exact ship classifications were a bit difficult to follow, but considering what he had seen so far, he could assume that the first five ships were corvettes while the Admiral had arrived in a light frigate.

Should things turn sour, however, the station had five frigates docked with it, plus plenty of ordnance, allowing them to defend the station, against an attack.

Still, when the Quarian Admiral had arrived, it caused quite a stir on the station. He came aboard a light frigate (called "cruiser" by the Captain Zare), but he also brought along five more corvettes (or "frigates") under his command. Some members were close to outright panic due to the sheer number of Quarian vessels.

At least, the situation had been quickly defused with the timely self-introduction. The Admiral was quickly invited onto the station to meet his Captain and initiated diplomatic talks immediately. While things were not official for another few days, the Terran officials were not on board, they were still able to talk to Admiral Zorah via QEC system.

More information was traded, with both sides giving documents as a sign of goodwill. Codexapedia, an upgraded and official version of Wikipedia, from Terran Federation, and the Codex from the Migrant Fleet. The second part alone raised more alarm on the National Security Council. They suddenly realised that they were in a tough spot. The Quarians had no love for artificial intelligence, as their own creations had chased them off their home world, and there were more than just the Quarians and Humans out there in the known galaxy. There was a governing body of aliens out there, calling themselves the Citadel Council, and was of both questionable morals and intelligence.

Leonardo did not have much of an opinion on the intelligence part, but he was... confused as to why the Council did not extend a helping hand to the Quarians in time of needs. After all, it was nearly four centuries ago, humanity had just developed the internal combustion engine back then.

For Admiral Rael'Zorah, he was baffled upon knowing that the humans did not find any Element Zero in their home system, or use it on a large scale. He dismissed it as either a result of luck or chance. Still the stories and fears of the Geth Uprising came flooding back when Captain Vincent broke the news about Humans' AIs to him.

It had taken five gun shots to the ceiling (a dangerous move), a total lock down, a glass bottle to the head and a lot of alcohol to keep the Admiral and his detachment from shooting everyone (if they could exclude the hologram of Serina, that was). Thank goodness that both sides agreed that it was just a misunderstanding during an emotional moment. The leaders from both civilisations had agreed, but the relationship between both sides had been strained after that. After all, it was... difficult to stay friendly after you had a gun pointed at your face.

That, coupled with the conservative, and probable borderline warmongering, personality of Admiral Zorah had pushed the relationship between two sides to the brink.

Leo had no choice but to gamble, and offered a full upgrade and refit for the hulls of the Quarian's ships, in exchange for a promise of friendship and co-operation. Hinting that he had seen their old age. It had taken less time than he initially guessed to convince the aliens into an agreement. Now that, he would drink for. Bluffing and lying to the face of aliens during First Contact to avoid a war... His Mom would be mad about this.

Nevertheless, the offer was accepted. Five more ships from the other side of the Relay, all "light cruiser" size, were docked with the station, and everyone was working overtime to fix their hulls. After all, it was not every day that you had five alien ships docked at your station for maintenance. However, the whole talks took the better part of five days. Which was why, the station only had eight days to do the job.

Despite having a limited amount of time, the crew on board was able to refit the hull of one ship in full, was half-way through two more and roughly a third done on the rest. The speed and efficiency of the station seemed to make the Admiral Zorah go from cold and distant to somewhat friendly and grudgingly respectful. If what he said was true, the standard time for doing the job would be more than one month for one ship, providing the maintenance crew could overcome their... _prejudice_ against Quarians. While it was just some mumbling of an old geezer to some, it confirmed the suspicion of the higher ups: the Quarians were the underdogs of the _galactic community_.

However, it did not steer them from aiming to make new friends. No matter what, the Quarians, or _maskies_ as many humans had decided to call them, were the first aliens that humanity had met. It would be a stain on their honour if the humans denounced them just to get a few trinkets from the so-called Council. Captain Zare'Rozu seemed impressed after this, or he thought all humans were insane (which was probably right).

However, he would be more impressed by humanity's their ability to suppress their blood lust, if he was informed about the fleets at the border. The scenario for that was... highly unlikely.

It also seemed like no Quarian had realised this, but three hours ago, the sensor spotted an unknown vessel, corvette-size appear out by the Mass Relay. All hailing attempts, in virtually all languages known (including the various aliens languages they had learned about), was met with silence. That, coupled with the fact that the hull configuration matched the overall design for a Turian frigate made Leo worried. Something was coming, and he had a feeling that it was not going to be a good thing. He would like to inform Admiral Zorah about this, but the Admiral was visiting Shanxi along with his crew and many of the other Quarians. Why should Leonardo spoil his fun?

For now at least.

After all, HIGHCOM had already been informed about this, and he hopes that nothing wrong would happen. 

* * *

**Location:**  
Commercial district  
Capital city Zhen Zhu ("Pearl")  
Planet Shanxi  
Zhusanjiao system  
People's Republic of United China, Terran Federation

 **Date:**  
January 28, 2200 (Terran calendar)  
2016 (Earth time); 20:00 (local time)

Xanda'Reegar was having a... wonderful time. No, it should be described as blissful. For the first time in her life, she had unrestricted access to entertainment services. Granted, she could not understand half of the words here, but it was not the problem. The Admiralty Board was building and testing the translation program between Khelish and a _lot_ of humans' languages. Xanda had no idea why humans spoke more than one language. History and culture was what they told her.

Still, English, Russian, German, Cantonese, Spanish, Portuguese and Mandarin were the main languages spoken in Terran Federation. As required by law, a Terran citizen needed to know at least two of these languages to ensure cooperation and maintain peace. However, rumours had already started to spread that Khelish would be implemented at some selected schools as a trial run before becoming a requirement as a language for diplomats. The last part astonished her the most, since she had no idea that humanity was ready to go that far despite having met each other a short time ago.

Still, many humans on the station and planet had already begun trying learn their language. It was... abysmal, but they did not use an active translation program nor they had the melding ability of the Asari. For Xanda, it was more than enough to be understood as a token of respect.

Humming an old song, she adjusted her bag again. Inside was entertainment equipment, some was requested by her ship-mates, and some was asked by the humans on station. They explained it as having too much work and too little time. That, and her expenses here was covered by the Terran Federation as a token of friendship, so they told her.

Walking next to her was Captain Zare'Rozu of the scout frigate _Iktomi_. He was something of a legend among the Quarian's Patrol Fleet. During his Pilgrimage, he had, somehow, been able to outsmart a Turian patrol squadron, blow up five slave ships from a Batarian pirate fleet, and had sex with three Asari - at the same time. Granted, the last part was a stretch, he himself only confirmed the presence of one Asari (and both of them was insanely drunk then), but from what he had done previously, a lone Asari seemed... anti-climactic. Therefore, it was an unsaid rule for his crew to exaggerate his achievements, even at his own expense.

At the moment, he was holding a bag full of confectionery, made from a dextro-based material. It was a gift from the scientists on board. Granted, his speciality was not biology or chemistry, but he knew someone who was and they had the necessary equipment. While the taste was not exactly Quarian-friendly, like having some fruit flavours from Rannoch, the candy still tasted good enough. Zare seemed to enjoy the strawberry flavoured candy in the pink-red colour.

Still, Xanda found the situation here... a bit tense. She did not see many children or elderly (if the smaller size and grey fur were any of the indicators) around here. When asked her escorts, she was simply answered that many of them had been evacuated to a nearby colony, in case of hostilities. However, they failed to evacuate a fourth of the required population, and war did not break out. So finally, things went reasonably well enough for both sides.

She got an uneasy feeling in her gut, though. Her intuition, sharpened by years of commanding a converted dreadnought of Civilian Fleet, told her that these humans were either deliberately leaving things unsaid, outright frightened, or both. Unknown to them, the same thing could be said about the Quarians. Both sides had yet to trust the other completely. The Quarians, due to three centuries of discrimination, and the Humans, possibly due to their paranoia. Almost _insane_ paranoia. She remembered the first time setting foot on their station, she was checked and scanned five times, just to confirm that she carried no harmful diseases, and it was just for the medical side of the problem. However, the humans were reasonable in that, they explained it and gave her a choice: if she did not want to be checked, she could remain on her ship.

However, staying on a ship and doing nothing for nearly two weeks was not a good choice for many people. The crews from all five ships sent to the station chose to visit Shanxi, the colony in the system. Only a skeleton crew remained behind, and they had a rotation schedule with the crew on shore, to instruct and supervised the upgrading process. Speaking of which, her ship had already been finished and only required some final, personal touches to complete.

To celebrate that, her attached human security advised her to select a few movies, or _vids_ as the Council would call them, for entertainment. The movies selected by her bodyguard were described as "masterpieces" of mankind. However, she had a bad feeling when looking at the cover and the titles of those movies: _Battlestar Galatica_ , _Starship Troopers_ and _Star Wars_. Well, she could not go back now, could she?

The group of visitors wandered into a street restaurant. No, "restaurant" was not the proper word. A restaurant would require a large enough area along with chairs and tables and a separated kitchen area. The street here was not an ideal place to do that.

"Food cart" would be a better word to describe what Xanda was seeing now. Despite being in their "23rd century", many "ancient artefacts" still remained. For example, _wooden_ food carts. Granted, some of her escorts said that they only looked like wood, but they were made from something like metal originally. However, everything else was "traditional" and "ancient", up to and including the receipt and the clothes of the chefs.

Food carts after food carts lining both sides of the street, selling various kinds of food. One was selling soup with some kind of yellow strings, while the one next to it had some sort of white thingy. The one on her right was selling some kind of bread filled with food inside. Looking at this scene only caused her stomach to grumble when it should not. Moreover, despite having at least two air filters in the suit, Xanda still vaguely smelled something... nice here. Probably, or she was having nostalgia of her childhood.

"Ah, the street food. An icon of every PRUC and PAC colony. Anyone want to eat? My treat," her body guard asked his troopers around and received more grumbles as answer.

"Men and their food," Xanda muttered.

Next to her, Zare looked... intrigued, if his body language was any sign. It was more of a surprise that they had been told some rumours that some food carts were selling dextro-food, courtesy of the Terran Federation. It was a pity that the troopers did not know about the taste, or how the chefs were able to make them. They started to joke about it, probably that someone wanted to try the new ingredients given by the government and the chance to sell their food to the aliens.

It did not take long to convince her and Captain Zare'Rozu to follow them. As luck would have it, the food cart they were going to was the most famous and best tasting cart on the street. It was so famous that the owner actually had to set up tables and chairs outdoors to keep up with the demand of the customers. Moreover, a significant portion of the current customers were both Quarians and their escorts, and crew of the human's space station.

Before she realised it, her group of ten had actually sat down and started to order in rapid fashion. She recognised that the language was not English like before, but another. Her translator identified it as "Cantonese" (whatever that meant) and quickly ran the program. It turned out that the rumours were true, and the chefs here were able to make some "dumplings" based on dextro-based materials. However, they were not able to test it, in fear of allergic reaction or poisoning. Hence, they decided to keep it for the Quarians and waited for their comments.

The dish, called dumplings, was put in front of Xanda and Zare by a chubby elderly chef dressed in a white short-sleeved T-shirt and a white apron. His eyes seemed... fairly small compared to other humans she had met, but she would chalk it as some quirky appearance of specific individuals. Looking down at the dish again, her food appeared with a white-ish/yellow cover, but with more white. Her bodyguard described the colour as "ivory", though the word was not translated properly, probably due to the context. She would have to ask someone about that later.

It was a pity that she could not take off her mask and start eating normally due to _safety_ reasons. So, the only way for her to do this was to grind and/or smash the food into smaller bits and then sucked them via the induction port. While it was an available option, she was still hesitant. After all, it was an unknown. What if she got poisoned? What if the humans accidentally created an allergic reaction? What if she did something wrong which could be interpreted as an insult to the chef?

It was the fear of the unknown. What if she unknowingly did something seriously wrong that could be interpreted as an insult? Most of the humans here were a part of military. She did not want to botch this one and bring more disgrace and shame to her people.

"Ah, _bosh'tet_. Mr. Chef, I'd like to apologise, in advance, if I accidentally do something that may make you feel unpleasant. I sincerely hope you don't mind."

"Hmm? Like what?" - The chef raised his pair of _eyebrows_ upward.

If what Xanda had read was correct, it could be interpreted as either amusement, surprise, or both. Apparently, the human chef also wanted to know more about his customers.

"Well... I can't exactly take my mask off... If I do so, I'll..."

"Catch some unknown diseases? Get some germs in your system? Leading to either a very sick Captain or a dead one?"

Zare seemed baffled after that. He asked with a slightly raised tone in the voice. It was just slightly, only recognisable between Quarians, but sill a raised voice. It was either due to fear or surprise, or worse, both.

"How... How do you know?"

"I didn't. I just guessed. I'd probably do the same if I were you, don't worry. Speaking of which, how do you plan to eat the food?"

"Oh... Well, I plan to... mince it, or cut it into smaller part, and then use the induction port to get it into my suit. Via the mechanics that I won't explain, the solid food is turned into a treated and edible material. I hope you don't mind if I do that."

"Don't worry Captain. You're my customer, and it is my task to serve you to the best of my ability."

Zare seemed relax after that, and he didn't waste any time to grind the dumpling into smaller bits with the provided knife. Well, they had to use the side of the blade to crush the dumplings. After all, they could not use the normal _chopsticks_ , originally designed for hands with five fingers. _Kee'lah_ , even some humans she had seen still had trouble using them, let alone the aliens like her and Zare.

She noticed that something was coming out of the dumplings being crushed. Something green, and something else in brown-ish colour. What were they actually?

"Have anyone of you explained the food to them?"

"No gramp. We are just some bad-mannered and plain soldiers. We don't know much about food, or culture in general. Can you teach us oh Enlighted one?"

Some chuckles were heard after her bodyguard finished his answer. Somehow these humans also believed that old age equalled wisdom and intelligence. Though sometimes, they could use it as a joke to tease the old geezer in question. Still, it was the same on some Quarian ships.

The chef just sighed and shook his head while muttering something about youth and neglect. Fitting for many cultures, really.

Taking a deep breath, the chef explained while still keeping watch on Zare. Unknown to him, many of the other customers had turned silent, ready to listen to his story. After all, he was an old man, and he would have a lot to tell.

"Alright younglings. Let me explain this. A long, long time ago, try a thousand years, at least, our ancestors, in a part of our home world at least, used silver ingots for trading. Those ingots were made in boat-shape, oval and turned up at both ends.

"As a... consequence, these dumplings are modelled after that shape. My great-grandmother, may her spirit rest in peace, told me that these dumplings were made with hope of prosperity and wealth. The more dumplings you ate during the Lunar New Year Festival, coming in a week by the way, the more silver you would have in the new year. Normally, I wouldn't be selling them now. But it wouldn't be... prudent to not show our lovely Quarians here our best food, custom-made to their biology. Am I right, TROOPERS?"

"OO-RAH!"

Hang on... the last line seemed too familiar, and Xanda and Zare were surprised by this part. It almost looked like the chef was making a prank on everyone here. That, or he was a veteran.

"Gramp! You were in the army?"

"Army, kid, with a capital 'A', and yes, I was a trooper; Mechanised Infantry, Roughneck Battalion. I was called when those sissy Navy men wanted something done properly, and when the Assies are too crazy for the job."

"My dad is a Marine, you know?"

"So what? Is he crazy?"

"...Yes."

"See. Point taken. Don't contradict the wisdom of an old man, kid. Now have some food, you are too short kiddo."

Every one nearby just laughed and smiled after that. After all, an old veteran with lots of stories to tell could be a valuable source of entertainment. Especially when he was making jokes on a much younger individual. It could be a bit... offensive, not too much, and it was always fun to see someone got teased. Things were the same in the Migrant Fleet after all.

Soon, Zare was finally done with the crushing of his food. Gestures were made by the surrounding humans to be silent, either by making hushing sounds or putting a finger to their lips. It was just in time to see Captain Rozu bended down and sucked the food inside via the induction port. She heard someone commenting something like straw. _Hey, it was not a straw! It was an induction port!_

The crushed pieces of dumpling were sucked into Zare's suit, and then he sat still, not moving a single muscle. That quickly drew a lot of attention. The bodyguards quickly became worried while the chef's eyebrows almost make a straight line. They were afraid, Xanda realised. They were facing an unknown, and risking having a dead Quarian. Clearly, they valued the newly found friendship with the Quarians far more than they realised.

Xanda felt something in her heart...

A voice came out of Zare's suit, broken by unstable emotion. That was the reason she deducted from the Captain. To be fair, no one could blame him. After over 300 years, he was the first one to not eat from a nutrient paste tube and to have food, real food. On top of that, an alien dish served by an alien chef on an alien colony after first contact with virtually no discrimination or hatred. Emotional instability would not be the proper was to describe it. It was a blessing. A wonderful blessing of... Xanda was at a loss for words...

"It's... it's... won... wonderful... It tastes... I don't... don't... know... rich? Yes, rich. It... It was wonderful... Thank you, chef. Thank you."

So... it was that good? Xanda stared at her dish, dumbfounded. She decided to try it herself. When the food arrived on her tongue... she was at a loss for words. Zare was right. She did not know how to describe the feeling and the taste here. It was just... wonderful.

It was a bliss, that was the best she could do for now.

Unbeknownst to her, other Quarians had also started to try the food, much to the cheering of the humans.

Soon, the tables around the food cart quickly regained their famous noise and vitality. Every customer was laughing and chatting together, the worry of a dead alien faded as fast as it came.

Still, someone did find something difficult to understand. For example, her bodyguard's was about biology, and her question was about the festival mentioned by the chef. At least she still had her chance after that man finished asking,

"Hey, does anyone here know why Quarians can't eat human food?"

A young voice sounded from in front of her. "Different amino acid structure, I read."

It was the same kid that was teased earlier. It was not until now that Xanda and her group could observe him clearly. Fairly short with a thin build. A light-tone skin but he had... dots, dark dots, scattered on his face. Dark, unruly hair rested on top of his head while a thick pair of glasses sat on his nose. The last thing baffled Xanda a bit, but it was explained quickly enough. She was told that some humans had eye defections, either born-with or "made" due to unhealthy life-style while growing up. While they said the problem could be fixed with medical advances, many still preferred the traditional way of wearing glasses. Some said it was a proof of intelligence, and for some, it became a fashion item. Xanda could not warp her mind around the second part.

Her bodyguard, still confused with the concept, asked again, "In English please?"

The said kid just raised his eyebrows a bit and then put down his chopsticks - Wow, he could use it normally? He scratched his chin a bit before raising both of his hand, showing nothing inside while talking:

"First thing first, you guys know about protein right? Good, so you dunderheads are smarter than I originally credited you for.

"OK, now, if you break them down into smaller parts, as small as you can, you'd have the basic unit, which is called amino acids. Now, as far as I know, there are two ways of categorising them, either by their components or their optical structure. You have nine for first method and two for the second. Now, for the sake of simplicity, I'd only consider telling different amino acids apart by looking at how they are structured.

"We have two types, the levo, used by us humans here, and dextro from the Quarians. These two amino acids are almost the same, _almost_ being the key word. Think about them like the right and left hand. You can rotate the right hand so that both thumbs pointing in the same direction, but the back of each hands are pointing opposite sides, and vice versa. It was not the precise wording in a science book, but I think it will suffice for now"

"And how does that connect to food?"

"Hmm. Think like this, you need nutrients to survive, and grow up, right? To have nutrients, you have to break down food into simpler stuff. In human's bodies... you can say that after eating, we only grab the levo part and ignore the rest. Therefore, you can probably eat dextro-food without worrying about food poisoning, probably. I don't know so don't try it. But the problem is you won't be able to get any nutrition from the dextro part. If the organs, of the Quarian are roughly the same as humans, you can say the same thing. They can probably eat human foods, which are levo-based, but they may not be able to get anything out of it, not to mentions risk the chance for other... complications."

"Like what?"

"For example... Do you know what is it?"

"Chilly powder. Made a long time ago, used in many meal, especially in DRI, to create extra flavour for the meal. So what?"

"If I remember correctly, its scientific name is capsaicin, or... crap. I can't remember, but its formula is..."

Zare was suddenly interrupted with fear creeping in his voice. "Hang on, did you say Capsaicine?"

"Yes. You got something?"

"... It was banned because it was lethal."

"See, trooper, that's what I'm talking about. This is just food, some spice actually, but if you get enough of this, you are as good as dead."

"No s***?"

"Yeah, I mean it. I think the last death was... what, three days ago? Someone was stupid enough to put half of that vial in his soup. May that idiot rest in peace, but here, we use them in small doses, just enough to make the food taste better."

"Hang on, are you saying that you humans are actively use a known dangerous substance to make your food taste better?"

"Yes, and for a long time, I might add."

Xanda just stayed silent, baffled. These humans... they were more insane than they let on, but at least some of them knew when and where to stop. Moreover, they were nothing but friendly to the Quarians, making her ready to chalk this part as a difference in biology and culture between two civilisations. Besides, the idea of using thing moderately had its own merit, it was the same idea about eezo after all. Use them too much and you may risk your chance of exposure, leading to a... uneasy death. She had three friends who had passed away due to high and constant contact with the Element Zero core after all.

Still, it would be nice to know about some quirky parts soon. It would mean that there would be less crazy things later on. After all, these humans could not be as insane as inventing a drive without Element Zero or creating Artificial Intelligence right?

Besides, what could possible go wrong?

Oh, and the festival... "Oh, do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"No, what do you want to know?"

"Our chef mentioned something called _Lunar_ _New Year Festival_ earlier. What is this? Some kind of end of year or beginning of year festival?"

"You're correct."

"Can you explain further?"

"Sure thing... So... how can I start...?" 

* * *

**Location:**  
Quarian frigate _Ta'lak_  
250,000km from Battle Station A-156 toward Mass Relay Theta-T25A  
Zhusanjiao system  
People's Republic of United China, Terran Federation

 **Date:**  
January 28, 2200 (Terran calendar)  
2357 (Earth time)

Vuong got out of his Mech and jumped onto the hangar floor. This Quarian corvette was the newest ship to arrive in the system, in addition to six ships that had arrived with the Quarian Admiral and the five currently being upgraded at the station. Turned out that this ship was on the verge of catastrophic failure, but thanks to the newly found friendship, the Quarian's Admiralty Board had decided to ask the Terran Federation to do them a favour.

As good partners, the Federation agreed. However, there was a danger that the ship could explode and unleash unknown substances, potentially dangerous to humans. Hence, the ship was kept a distance away from the station, making the team of eight men having to hitch a ride on a frigate going out for patrol to reach the Quarian ship.

It started to get a bit boring after upgrading the original five ships with titanium materials, so he accepted the request without much thought. After all, he, along with his team, just rushed to replace the elegance of white ships into the... dullness of grey material. He did not find it problematic. After all, engineers were not exactly known for their artistic taste. Though for the Quarians, who lived and fought on them... It would be another story.

After busting his arse to cover the various defects on the hulls, which had more holes on it than Swiss cheese, he was the last one to get in the hangar. Leader's rule: first to land, last to live.

That, and he had been playing too many shooting video games.

Going down into the ships for rest and to recharge, via nutrient paste, he would rest for six hours (mostly of sleeping) before going back out again. Despite having a high endurance, the mental stress would be more than sufficient to tire him down and decrease the efficiency of the crew's job. When a space-related task was being concerned, efficiency and safety were the two most important things.

The only drawback of this task was that he could not take off his helmet. Quarian ships were, for all intents and purpose, sterile. Meanwhile, for every breath human took, he would exhale millions of bacteria, contaminating the whole system. With the information about the weak immune systems of the aliens, it was better to stay safe and respectful by keeping the hard suits and helmets on at all time. After all, the suit also came with a polarised visor, allowing him to take nap without worrying of being spotted. An image of him drooling while sleeping would be a... great blackmail material.

While sitting on a bench, he noticed a Quarian in light-grey suit approaching. That was the Captain of this ship, a female named Shaelo'Fifin vas Ta'lak. In human terms, she would be around 40 years old, between where he and his parents were. As a habit from the military, he stood at attention and saluted her.

"Captain."

"At ease, Operator. No need to salute me, you are not a part of the Quarian Migrant Fleet. So, how's the job going?"

"Reasonably well. The hull structure is being retrofitted on schedule. It turned out that your decision to evacuate the ship earlier was a sound one. It could have resulted in some serious damage and loss of life while fixing the hull if you didn't do that. However, whatever we do here is only temporarily, we lack the necessary equipment and materials to properly repair everything. I suggest you talk to your admiral and try to get a freighter transfer you to a space dock. The job would be properly and thoroughly done that way."

"Suggestion dully noted... Still, do you think that your people will accept it?"

Vuong felt a bit... intrigued at this. It seemed like his theory was partially correct. The Quarians may play the role of "underdog" to a larger galactic community. If not, they would not be a second-thought to the idea of humanity repairing Quarian's ships. Still, he wanted to confirm the thought.

"About what, ma'am?"

"Having us in the dock and having your people fixing our ships."

"As long as you don't try to kill or harm us, I don't think they will mind. Hell, I half-expect someone making a cosplay out of your image by now."

"Kosploy?"

"Cosplay. Short for costume play, meaning that people wearing costumes and accessories to represent a specific character. Usually, the said character is fictional. Usually."

"It is interesting, I guess?"

"Trust me, you don't—"

Suddenly, alarm blazed across the ship. The captain's head suddenly jerked up and Vuong had to press down the urge to curse. The voice of someone, probably the helmsman, spoke from the nearest speaker, wherever it was:

"Captain! Captain, it's the Turians! They found us! Th... They just sent us a message. Should I play it?"

"Play it."

Another voice message, with rough and metallic tones came through the speaker. Vuong had no idea what it meant until his suit ran the translation program (installed just a few days ago). With the Khelish as based language and combined with given data, a new male voice was heard.

"Attention, _suit rats_. You have broken the laws of the Citadel Council. Surrender to the authority of the Turian Hierarchy or face consequences. Attention, primitives. Surrender now and become a client race of the Turians, or else."

And that point, Vuong's mind was in shock, completely shock, apart from one though: _What the actual f***?_

* * *

(1) A Chinese wine, alcohol rate by volume is somewhere between 40 and 60 per cent

* * *

 **So, the Turians have arrived, the two SPECTREs from earlier chapters would make landfall... without knowing that a full fleet has already gathered at the other edge of the system. _What could possibly go wrong?_**

 **Anyway, I'm planning to have some serious fight next time. And should I write some Codex chapters?**

 **Hope you enjoy this chapter. Please review, as usual, constructive criticism is welcome.**


	6. Chapter 5 - Edited

**Using the spare time in this (valuable) mid-term vacation, I write another chapter for this story. This chapter, as I want, will have a crap ton of blood, gory, gun, smoke and death. It's war, and I'll spare no effort to make it as bloody as possible. And when s*** hit the ground... try to imagine a frontal charge of Imperium Guard in Warhammer 40K universe - with no armour support, no artillery, no Space Marine, no Dreadnought... and against a Chaos Daemon.**

 **Though if that make you feel a bit uneasy, try Stalingrad (the real life version, or the as-close-as-possible: Russian movie _Stalingrad_ ) in World War 2. Humans hate wars not because we are suck, but because we consider them (too) seriously.**

 **Oh, and I love the speeches and one liners too.**

 **So, this one will be very long, I expect it to be 6000 words, roughly.**

* * *

 **OBSERVER01: Oh yeah, I weap my tear when thinking about Quarians watching Battlestar Galatica (2003 version). May be like "GETH!" -"What? Oh, those are Cylons, just some of them. And we burn them in the end. Trust me, there won't be any AI rebellion here." - "How do you know?" - "Because those AIs told me so."**

 **Monki-Neko: Thanks for your offer - Can you check the PM for more details?**

 **EchoSentient (PM): I guess you are also and engineering student like me? Am I right bro?**

* * *

 **This chapter can be written thanks to**

 **\- Tyzuris Coronati on sufficientvelocity forum with the thread "My attempt at Mass Effect calcs"**

 **\- Halo Wikia for the information on the MACs**

 **\- NUKEMAP 2.42, created by Alex Wellerstein, sponsored by the College of Arts and Letters, Stevens Institute of Technology**

 **\- Winston Churchill with the most famous speech of his "We shall fight on the beaches"**

 **\- T** **ribunes And Triumphs website for the information on Roman Army ranking**

 **\- Military Factory for their info on weapons and s*** like that**

 **\- My calculator, and my cup of tea**

* * *

 **A bit of summary for named characters so far - mostly for myself to keep track**

 **\- Terran Federation personnel**

 **President: James Tiberius Kirk**

 **Commander of Space Station A-156: Colonel Leonardo Vincent (Terran Federation Navy)  
Second-in-command ****of Space Station A-156: Lieutenant Commander Cho Minha (PRUC Navy)  
** **Chief of Security on Space Station A-156: Major Yuri Silva (** **Terran Federation Marine/** **ODST)  
** **Chief of Science on** **Space Station A-156: Associate Professor Sonchat Banerjia  
** **AI of Space Station A-156: Serina**

 **Mech-team leader: Tran Kien Vuong ( _Kilo Victor)_  
Mech-operators: Jack Turner ( _Daniels_ ),** **Yuri Shopankov ( _Shpagin_ )  
Mech-operation supervisor: _Imperium_ (nickname, real name unrevealed)  
Specialised AI: Yukio**

 **Engineers of Dock 9 of Space Station A-156: Rin (unknown surname, Vuong's love interest)**

 **\- Migrant Fleet/Quarian personnel**

 **Admiral (Patrol Fleet): Rael'Zorah vas Qientus  
Captain (Patrol Fleet): Zare'Rozu vas Iktomi  
Captain (Patrol Fleet): Xanda'Reegar vas Unitus  
Captain (Civilian Fleet): Shaelo'Fifin vas Ta'lak**

 **\- Citadel Council**

 **SPECTREs: Drutis Abberion (Turian) and Halri Januudo (Asari)**

* * *

 **Acronym** **:**

TF: Terran Federation  
USNA: United States of North America  
FEER: Federation of Eastern Europe Republic  
PRUC: People's Republic of United China  
PAC: Pan-Asia Coalition  
EU: European Union  
DRI: Democratic Republic of India  
SAA: South American Alliance  
AMEA: Africa - Middle East Alliance

TNT: Trinitrotoluene or 2-Methyl-1,3,5-trinitrobenzene

* * *

"Freedom must be won by blood"  
\- Extracted from the song _Battle of Bannockburn_ , _The Last Stand_ album, Swedish metal band _Sabaton_ (2016)

"The entire Vietnamese people are determined to mobilize all their mental and physical strength, to sacrifice their lives and property in order to safeguard their independence and liberty."  
\- Extracted from the Vietnamese Declaration of Independence, written by President Ho Chi Minh, HaNoi, (former) Democratic Republic of Viet Nam [now part of PAC], 2 September 1945

* * *

 **Location:**

Battle Station A-156, _Lee Jufan_ -class (under construction) – Command Centre

10 light-seconds from Mass Relay Theta-T25A

Zhusanjiao system

People's Republic of United China, Terran Federation

 **Date:**

January 29, 2200 (Terran calendar)

0013 (Earth time)

War, war never changes.

That was the first thing taught to Captain Vincent in the military. No matter the time, no matter the place, any terrible war could be triggered by a silly event from a person of questionable intelligence. Just to consider the most three infamous wars in human history for example. The First World War raged across the world simply because a certain Serbian wanted to have his name recorded in history, by killing an Austrian prince, the _problem_ being the said prince is the heir to the throne. The Second World War began when a certain dictator rose to power with promise to rebuild the once-powerful homeland while his allies aimed to unite two full regions, each under their own respective banner. The third took place when a bunch of religious nuts thought that blowing up congresses' and national assemblies' during a turbulence time of racism and potential armed conflict would be a good idea.

All three of them sucked, really. The first was called "Great War" claimed roughly 20 million lives, the second claimed 70 million. And the last, the Third World War... one billion had perished...

Yet, after all those deaths and destruction, humanity was once more, given a choice: war or slavery. They were not a very good choices if Leo was honest. As any sensible human being, he tried his best to reason with the... newcomers, Turian, hoping that a war could be avoided. In case the situation turned sour (which it was close enough already), all he could do was hope for a lopsided victory at best or a last stand at worst.

The only good news was that many of the Quarians were on not the planet, or on the station. Though none of that would matter once these aliens deploy ground troops. That would be troublesome since the planet only had one Army regiment as the garrison. Even with the higher alert condition from two weeks ago, they had two Army regiments, one Marine brigade and one interceptor wing from Navy as reinforcements. Considering the odds, these forces could be obliterated in just a few days. After all, the defending composition sounded eerily similar to the first instalment of _Star Trek: Deep Space 9_ franchise. Humans were not exactly... lucky in that game.

Peace needed to be the priority; not war. These aliens had hundreds, if not thousands of years to build up their strength; compared to humanity, who have just had a century of space flight. History usually showed that whoever had the power to replenish their losses always won in the end. In this case, it would be the Turians, not to mention their allies Asari and Salarians. Things were going badly for the humanity now.

Still, Leonardo had a job to do.

"Attention Turian vessels, this is Captain Leonardo Vincent of Terran Federation Armed for—"

"Shut up you primitive! You're breaking rules of the Citadel Council! Therefore, by the authority granted by Council, I, Rear Admiral Desolas Arterius, officially demanded you to surrender, or face consequences."

"You are trespassing in the sovereign territory of Terran Federation! You have no right here!"

"So...you refuse to submit to Council's authority? Alright, primitive, you will get what is coming to you."

The feed from the alien flag ship - a frigate (or a "cruiser") by the look of it - was cut off suddenly. Leonardo turned his worried eyes to the screen. The few Quarian ships in the area, most of them appeared during the First Contact event, were fleeing from the Turian flotilla. A few corvettes against eleven heavy corvettes ("frigates") and a frigate ("cruiser") was not exactly a fair fight. Leo agreed with the captains fully. Their chance for a victory was slim, so it was best for them to retreat while they could.

Suddenly, strange readings were detected on the sensors. There were gravitational fluctuations coming from the Turian ships. It was similar like what he got from the Quarian ships when they were moving to the station two weeks ago. But this time, it was different. The scale seemed to larger, but it was more focused. Higher graviton density, so to speak.

"Alpha strike detected!"

The voice of Serina rang up in the bridge, confirming his worst fear: open hostility. An unavoidable First Contact War.

Before that able to sink in, five of the nine Quarian ships were destroyed in the first salvo, two more were crippled, and the last ship was heavily damaged. Then, the two crippling ships suddenly disappeared in a pair of brilliant explosions. Eight ships destroyed in the blink of an eye, and was pure luck that the only ship escaped relatively unscathed was the one carrying the full team of human specialists. Leonardo let out a string of curses, most of those lost were civilian. Even for a trigger-happy bunch of people (he came from USNA originally), he still had his own standards in the war. Yet, these Turians completely turned it upside down.

Serina brought him back to reality:

"Captain, from the data that I've gathered, the discernible travel _time_ (time between the "flash" of the gun to the target) less than two seconds. While this is only preliminary—"

"You're deducing that these Turians are using Prothean-based weapons, correct?"

The cold voice of Commander Cho came besides him. As usual, she appeared in her ice cold manner and able to make many feel a chill go down their spine. Leonardo was one of them until he read her file (commander's perk) and realised that she had a... tragic past. Since then, he had nothing but utmost respect for this wonderful second-in-command. Hell, he could not be certain about his sanity just by hearing about it. Commander Cho, however, had seen and lived through it, yet she seemed to be... unfazed about the whole ordeal ( _seemed_ was the key word).

Now, once again, she was proving her worth with by finding the answer with very little information. Granted, she was guessing, but it was a well-educated one.

"Affirmative, Lieutenant Commander. My sensors speculate that the yield of their forward guns are at roughly 12 kilotons of TNT. Cross-reference with the Codex given to us by the Quarians, I can confirm that all five enemy ships are at roughly 600m, and are classified as light cruisers. However, please note that their rounds can travel at approximately 0.74% the light speed, which is much faster than the standard shipboard cannon, even on our station. In addition, I... I have taken the liberty to informed HIGHCOM and the National Security Council about this escalating situation. The Predator Fleet has also been informed. They would should have a response by... now."

The worst was yet to come.

For all intents and purposes, he was the commander at the front now, and it was his decision to either wage war or to submit. To be honest, if not for his history lessons, he would love to blast these birds to kingdom come. Though... _bird_? He had no idea where it came from.

The communications officer quickly told him that a high priority message was coming from the Predator Fleet. It was one of the few times that Leonardo felt glad that he was working _with_ Terran paranoia. This fleet had been staying idle on the other edge of the system for the last ten days, ready to intervene at a moment's notice, and a message coming directly from its commander, Admiral Kastaine Drescher, meant that things were bad.

The face of the famous Admiral appeared on the holo screen. Known as "Tigress" due to her aggressive tactics in both war games and counter-piracy missions. A commander like her would be qualified to either to crush the alien invaders, or make their victory a Pyrrhic one. Either way, Leonardo knew that he could lose many of his men.

The woman on screen, of European-descent and with short dirty blond hair and a dark blue eyes, looked at him and asked in a very restrained voice,

"Captain, just skip the pleasantries. They just opened fire on our friends. They threatened us, to be their... their slaves in all but name. That is something we won't do, even after eighteen levels of hell. So, what are your assessment?"

"...War, ma'am. It's our only option now."

"I know that already. My question is how to fight them here."

"Ma'am, I'll deploy the flotilla, two destroyers and two frigates, we have. They would be considered dreadnoughts in their classification. They are all on patrol but they will be able to return in less than three minutes. I'm planning on positioning two ships to the top and bottom. They seem to focus their point defense systems there. The remaining will be held in reserve. I think your fleet, should stay put, and only engage if they bring reinforcements."

"Not bad... though, hmm?" - She turned to look at something offscreen. - "Right, the AI here, Elisabeth, she just told me something interesting. We may have one more Mass Relay in system. The Quarians seem to believe so, and if it is, that may put all systems in the Outer Colonies, Inner Colonies and even the Core at risk. Hell, it may put Sol at risk. So, unless the Turians bring in large numbers of reinforcements, hell-bent on enslaving or eradicating mankind, I can't risk the entire fleet, in the event the worst happens. Do you understand that?"

Leo was silent before he answered, "Yes, ma'am."

"Dispatch the ships, Captain, and Godspeed. I believe our Captain Kirk would give a damm good speech soon. Until then... Good luck. Drescher: out."

With that, the image of the admiral winked out of existence, leaving a bridge full of worried officers. She lived up to her namesake. She was rarely not the first to attack, but she always had a way to turn a situation around, if the worst happened. If it did, she would not stop until her enemy either surrendered or were all dead. Two pirate fleets were proof of that.

Leo ordered his ships to launch, knowing all too well that they may not return alive. It was a tough job, but the job was his...

The communication officer yelled out again, this time, panic filled in his voice.

"Sir, the alien flagship just hailed us. What should do you want to do?"

Well, there would be no going back now. Turning to the XO, he asked her in a flat tone, "Commander, I'm about to do something either very brave, or very stupid. What do you think about that?"

"Sir, with all due respect, just give everyone here a speech already. Then we can fight."

The answer, still in an emotionless voice, made him smile a bit. It appeared that his day would not be in vain after all, and he was planning on giving some speech to try and motivate the men under his command. He hoped it would be a good speech, and paraphrased from a very old one that he always found inspirational, followed by the order for his ships to fire. It would make for an interesting story to tell later on, if he survived that was.

Signalling the communication officer to accept the signal, Leo stood tall, with his hands behind his back. After all, things were about to get a bit more...formal, so he wanted to look as best as he could.

In just a moment, the face of a Turian was on the screen, and for the first time, he managed to take a good look of the facial details of these aliens. They... well, looked like birds, really. A considerable part of this certain commander's face was covered in lighter tone of skin or something. It looked quite rigid, though a biologist would probably be able to tell more about it. Compared to a human's face, a Turian's seemed longer and slimmer, with two mandibles on two sides of his mouth.

From what he could tell from the image, Leo noted that the overall shape of Turian's head was quite different from a human's, or the Quarians. It seemed longer on top and there was something that looked like... feathers? Probably that was why he thought call them "bird" earlier.

"So, primitive, what do you choose? Joining to serve the Hierarchy, or suffer the same fate as those suit rats?"

Taking in a deep breath to calm his thumping heart, Leonardo locked eyes with the alien Admiral, asking his officer.

"Comm, I want a copy of the logs made that have recorded everything since the Turians arrived in the system, including where they opened fire on the Quarians. I want it broadcasting alongside this… conversation."

Taking a deep breath, Leo addressed the alien admiral before him.

"Admiral Arterius, for the offer of submitting to your rule: No. For shooting and killing our friends who had done nothing wrong: A big mistake. You think you can bully us? Hah, you don't know even about our history. Let me tell you this, you can either leave the system or surrender to me. If you do surrender, I give you my word that I will do what I can to ensure that you are treated fairly. What do you think?"

"You damn primitive! You dare to..."

"Yes, I dare dictate terms to you! You destroyed ships that were outclassed by you in every way just because they were Quarian, and then you threaten us with subjugation? Hell, I would kill you now if I could. Now, since it appears that you have refused my offer."

Leo paused for a second. This was probably his only chance and he wanted to make sure that it was a good one. Taking a deep breath and rolled his hand over into punches, he raised his voice:

"Men and women of Terran Navy, your Motherland had called you to fulfill your sacred duty. An enemy is at the gates, my friends, and we are the Guardians, we shall let none get pass, even at the cost of our own lives.

Shanxi is now, but Aurora, Reach or God forbid, Earth, could be invaded by these Turians, but we shall not accept the slavery they would force upon us. The wheat fields of Harvest, the farms of Dong Do or the vineyards of Burgundy may fall to these invaders, but we shall not fail.

We shall go on to the end, we shall fight in Sparta, we shall fight on the moons and barren rocks, we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the cosmos, we shall defend our homes, whatever the cost may be. We shall fight in the breach, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills, and we shall never surrender!"

As soon as he finished his speech, which he had based off of one of his favorite Prime Ministers (along with the chain cigars and brandy barrels), two frigates appeared on both sides of the Turian flotilla. To cover their advance, the station, despite being unfinished, opened fire with their heavy weaponry: a Heavy-MAC. The idea of the cannon, was pulled from a video game. Following the traditional thought of "bigger is better", the Heavy-MAC could fire a 1500-ton ferric-tungsten round at nearly 450 kilometers per second, or 0.15% of the speed of light. This was one of the fastest projectile speeds ever been achieved by humanity on any scale.

To understand how powerful the Heavy-MAC was, Leonardo tried Physics equation once. Kinetic energy equalled half of mass, times velocity, squared. The sheer kinetic energy alone had already equalled over 36 megatons of TNT. If the same amount of energy was released on the surface of an Earth-like planet, the crater could be 1000 feet (305 meters) deep, and as big as 2.56 kilometers in diameter. The radius of the effected area could reach 100 kilometers, not taking into account damage from the fallout.

In short, the Heavy-MAC was a very powerful platform for orbital defence. Its sheer presence was enough to keep many pirates from going through the discovered Mass Relays and raid the colonies.

Now, the Turians were experiencing its fearsome firepower. When it was fired, the enemy did not have time to react, and the round reached the enemy flagship just five seconds after the speech had ended. The result was a welcome sight to many of the defenders. The tungsten round literally punched through the enemy ship. The bow was hit first and quickly crumbled, shattering as the round travelled further inside, tearing the entire ship apart. In less than one second, the Turian cruiser (a frigate by Terran standards) was obliterated and turned into wreckage.

A vicious smile came to Leo's face upon seeing that. It was a pity that the Turian Rear Admiral failed to understand that humans did not take the word "submission" lightly, especially when it was used in adjacent to the phrase "alien power". His last message seemed to support that, wide-eyed, shocked and silent. Well, he also opened fire on friends of mankind, which further blackened his image in the Federation's eyes. His death was justified, and Leo did not feel any remorse ordering that bastard's death.

Leo was slightly disappointed that the Turian Admiral did not put up any fight, but he was not one who enjoy tempting fate like many others, especially when there was still a fleet of enemy warships in the system.

Taking advantage of the situation, the two frigates rushed in using their Shock Drives (FTL drive for intra-system use) with guns blazing from both sides. It was unfortunate that the Heavy-MAC was still recharging. He wanted to see more ships burnt for their crimes. He wondered, though, what the enemy was thinking. His ships, two destroyers and two frigates, would be classified as [heavy] cruisers or dreadnoughts according to their classification system (if there was any ship longer than 1000 meters), and seeing them rushing towards them... It would not be an easy experience.

From those two frigates, four MAC rounds raced through the vacuum of space. Even though at a much lower speed than the Heavy variant, they were delivered some serious damage. A 600-ton ferric-tungsten projectile with a depleted uranium core at 30 kilometers per second equalled 64.6 kilotons of TNT. It seemed small compared to the MAC on the station, but it was more than enough to deal serious damage to the Turian ships. Six of their corvettes (or "frigates") were quickly destroyed.

Looking from afar, Leo could almost feel the Turian ships' hulls buckle under the stress of impact before rupturing. The remaining five were finished off at close range by the missiles and turrets mounted on Terran Federation vessels.

In just two minutes, two of Federation frigates were able to completely wipe out the Turian flotilla. Leo's smile reached his ears, and you could almost say he was grinning like a maniac. The first fight was brief, lasting less than five minutes, and it was a complete victory for the humans: all twelve ships of the enemy were destroyed with zero losses to themselves. However, the situation was not to be celebrated. The Quarians had lost six ships. Overall, while trading six corvettes for eleven and one frigate could be considered as a "win", Leo was more worried about Quarian's reaction. He did not think that they would be thrilled about this.

 **Location:**

Quarian frigate _Ta'lak_

120,000km from Battle Station A-156 toward Mass Relay Theta-T25A

Zhusanjiao system

People's Republic of United China, Terran Federation

 **Date:**

January 29, 2200 (Terran calendar)

0017 (Earth time)

Shaelo'Fifin vas Ta'lak stood still, shocked. These humans never ceased to amaze her. Turians were well-known for their fighting capabilities and their ruthlessness in the battle. Hence, while the feeling was terrible, she was not surprised in the least when they opened fire on her unit. The Quarian flotilla was composed of mostly lightly armed vessels, were slaughtered.

Those humans, however, did not show any fear, if they had any in the first place. Instead, the commander gave a rousing speech, a very good one in Shaelo's opinion, and proceeded to wipe out the Turian Patrol flotilla while suffering no losses. That alone was baffling enough for her. Yet, the Human specialists on board, after rushing to the engineering room and hearing the speech, just gave each other a vicious smile. It almost appeared as if... they were expecting something like that.

Things got... worse when the team leader, a small man wearing a grey suit said, or yelled, at the screen:

"We are mankind! We once poisoned our air and water to weed out the weak! We used to set off fission bombs in our only biosphere! We even nailed our god to a stick and left him die bleeding! Don't f*** with the human race!"

"F*** yeah," was the responses he got from his team. Still, she had no idea why the phrase "f***" was. A very heavy curse in their language perhaps?

Still, looking at the humans cheering and smiling at the victory was more than enough to make her smile a bit. They seemed to have forgotten the fact that all of their hard work had been for nothing, thanks to the battle. She asked the team leader and was answer as before: the humans would pull the ship into dock, probably in a nearby system, for proper maintenance.

He seemed to believe that the system they were currently in would become a major battlefield soon. What baffled her was that he seemed almost eager to avenge those who had died, and make the Turians pay for their violating his homeland. That conviction was frightening, almost scared her to death. _Kee'lah_...

While she stood there, trying to take in the entire situation, new threats appeared on long-range scanners. Apparently, the Turian flotilla had managed to send a call for reinforcements before being destroyed, and their friends come. Shaelo felt the blood draining from her face while the report relayed to her omni-tool. It was hopeless; impossible to win. The Turians had flexed their muscles, and were aiming to punish her race and subjugate the humans.

Twenty five cruisers, ninety frigates, and two dreadnoughts had arrived in the system, and it was fearsome power. That display alone would deter any fleet of the same size of virtually any known galactic power. Even for the humans, the new fleet was far too powerful. Granted, the two ships they had were dreadnoughts, but were still seriously outnumbered.

It was hopeless now. She was one of the few in the know about Admiral Zorah's plan. The other Admirals might have heard about it, but had decided to pretend not to know about it. Plausible deniability and stuff like that. Admiral Zorah was a good man, and while his plan was outright insane and legally gray, it was the best course for her race to survive.

Now, that plan had failed completely. Her people...

A message was sent from the Turian cruiser _TSF Unavoidable_ with the image of a Turian Admiral, a vicious one, called Autius Gragatus appeared on the screen of every ship in the vicinity:

"Attention _suit rats_. You have violated the Citadel Council laws. You have deliberately activated a dormant Mass Relay. You have, on your own initiative, initiated first contact procedures with a pre-space flight race, and have uplifted them, without permission from the Council. That is just the tip of the iceberg, and as required by the law, I, Admiral Autius Gragatus, place you and all concerned parties under our authority. Anyone who resists will be eliminated with extreme prejudice. You have five galactic standard minutes to consider your options. Gragatus out."

All of Captain Shaelo'Fifin vas Ta'lak hopes came crashing down. With her, the entire bridge crew remained silent. They too, knew what would happen if they were captured. During their Pilgrimages, many suffered from racism and discrimination of all kinds. Being caught by the local authorities was never a good thing. They could be detained for a lengthy time at best and prison with no trial at worst. It was sad that the worst happened more often than not to Quarians.

Now, things were going to get even worse. She had eight humans on this ship, and their lives and safety were her responsibility. In their case, they too, could be considered no better than "suit rats" and fair no better than her and her people. Best case scenario, they would be brought before the Council and turned into a client race, a flashier term for a puppet.

"So, what happens now, eh? _Tovarisch_ , do you have any idea?" Yuri asked

"Guys, apart from a crazy one, I don't have any."

"How crazy, Victor? Remember, I haven't had my will written yet."

"So, do it, Arthur. I mean it. We're dead in the water here. We can't run nor hide. Speaking of which, Captain Fifin, I need you to get us in contact with Captain Vincent at once."

Nodding her head slightly, Shaelo signalled her communications officer to connect them with battle station. In just a few seconds, the request was accepted and the image of the Captain appeared on screen. He looked... worried if Shaelo was right. Behind him, his second-in-command, Commander Cho did not appear any better.

Wasting no time, the human commander nodded as a greeting and asked, "Mr. Tran, I assume you want to tell me something?"

"Yes, sir... First, I am assuming that the Mech team has become Militia due to... unforeseen hostile actions by these aliens?"

"Correct, and?"

"Leave us. Use your ships to fight them. We're dead out here, and trying to guard or rescue us would be a waste. These aliens will want to get our arses in their ships, so I'm suggesting we let them do that. I believe we can do more damage to them that way."

"How?"

"We have Mechs, Captain, and they don't. We'll be enraged apes when they expect some docile pets. They thing they are in charge, but they will become target practice to us. Though it's a pity that this ship doesn't have anything like beam guns or laser drillers, I always did like watching Mechas anime. Or a classic beam saber, I like that one."

"...So you are suggesting a boarding, Trojan Horse style?"

"Yes, sir."

"You know that you might not be returning right?"

"I know, Captain, but I'm from PAC; we're the ones who fights dirty and half, if not more, of our history is about fighting off invaders. Today is just Tuesday, sir. Moreover, I have one trigger-happy d***head from USNA, a violent alcoholic from REEF, and a silent guy from PRUC. I think the four of us would be more than capable of dealing with a boarding a ship. For the rest of us, we have one hacker from DRI, a banker from the EU, a suspected drug dealer - not that he would admit it – from the SAA, and a former prince from the AMEA. All of us together, well, let's just say that those Turians are about to have a bunch of fireworks pushed up in their assh***s, sir."

Captain Fifin and the entire bridge were stunned. This... small and slim human, even by their standards, were crazier than all of them originally thought. Not since the Krogan Rebellions, has anything thought, let alone tried, boarding a Turian vessel, and a combat capable one no less. Yet, he spoke in an almost casual tone, just like discussing the weather and dinner, though she was certain there was a trace of enthusiasm as well.

She had a bad feeling about this, and to be honest, she was torn between feeling worried for her and their safety, pitying the Turians, and being fearful of human specialists. If every human was as crazy as this man, she felt sorry for the galaxy in general.

"Alright, Mr. Tran. I hereby place you to in command of the mech Militia as a squad leader, with equivalent as a sergeant. You will be placed under the command of Captain Fifin. Use your training as Federation Guardsmen well, Sergeant. Your target is the ship identified as... X-ray Five..." - The captain turned his atten off screen. - "Damm it, Serina, I know."

He turned back to the new squad leader.

"The target ship is moving toward you on intercept course. This is going to be a suicide mission, you know it right?"

"Yes sir, we are aware of it."

He turned to look at the other members of his squad:

"Speaking of that, does any one of you protest?"

When he heard no refusals, he responded saying:

"No? See, sir, the rumours are true. Mech-operators are a bunch of crazy bastards. I almost feel bad for the Turians… almost."

Looking to the screen, Shaelo wasn't sure, but she was certain she could see a smirk Captain Vincent's face. However, she had other things to focus on, mainly trying to remain calm. With a Turian ship coming toward them and the human's claims, she and everyone else on the bridge were close to being scared out of their minds.

On the screen, Leo's face just twitched slightly. He nodded respectfully to the sergeant and turned toward her, asking,

"Captain, I know that I..."

"Captain, I accept the boarding proposal. There is very little love for Quarians from the rest of the galaxy, and the Turians have been some of the worst. After what they did today… I want to make them pay."

She paused to looked around at the rest of the bridge crew. Her face seemed to turn darker in a split second, Fifin had a hunch that the female human was speaking from her very own experience... However, the continued order left her no time to think and consier:

"If anyone here has objections, please voice them now."

The first voice to answer was the voice of her navigator, a middle-age woman called Xhala'Tuiro. She was one of the most experienced navigators that Shaelo had ever known, and saying that she was a living source of knowledge was not too far from truth. She had seen and done much in her life, and when she spoke, people listened.

"Captain, I have lived a long time and seen how the rest of the galaxy has treated us. To meet and civilization that doesn't treat us with scrutiny is a welcome sight. They offered to help us when they could have turned us away. I think our actions can show how grateful we are."

Quickly, other voices followed her.

"Comm Officer is in," he said.

"You can count Navigation in. After how well we were treated on the surface, I feel like I owe it to them to help. Besides, I'm itching for a fight. Those Turian bastards just kill my cousin."

"I'll step down from my XO position if you want me to Captain, but I'm with them on this one."

A text message arrived on her omni-tool, and she saw that it came from Engineering saying, [Ready for combat. Awaiting your command.] Damm, they got her trapped, but strangely, she did not mind it. Instead, she felt pride for her crew. With her face hidden by the helmet, no one could know that she was actually smiling, or grinning like a maniac. Well, truth to be told, she must be crazy to consider that.

Nodding at the screen, she spoke slowly, "Captain, I would take this man's recommendation. As he said, we're dead weight now. Sending even one ship to protect us would put more lives on the line. Use them to stop the Turians, Captain. Just promise me one thing, though."

"Yes?" he asked.

"Make them pay," she said coolly.

Leonardo's eyes widened when he heard that. His mouth slightly agape, but quickly returned it to as it was before. He recognised that tone of voice from experienced, and as much as he hated it, it was the best option.

"Sir," he heard behind him and turned to look, saw that it was his second-in-command, _Mina_ , or Commander Cho. She just nodded silently.

She agreed, and that meant he should too. With steel in his voice, he calmly spoke

"Captain Fifin, by the grave of my mother and father, I promise you that I will make those Turians pay for every life they had taken, Quarians and Humans."

"Thank you, Captain. That's good to hear."

"Oh, and Sergeant Tran?"

"Yes sir?"

"I give you the authority on whether or not to share information. You may choose to tell them if you wish."

Vuong's eyes widened, Shaelo saw it through the depolarised visor of his helmet. It was either shock or fear, she was not sure. That puzzled her, since he was the one who had proposed boarding the Turian vessel, and he still knew how to be afraid? However, he managed to reply, albeit a weak one:

"Affirmative, sir."

"Thank you for your help, Capatin Vincent. We... The Quarians, thank you for your support and friendship. _Kee'lah selai_. _Ta'lak_ out."

Sighing, Vuong shook his head. The mist of his breath fogging the helmet visor for a while before evaporating. He had to consider this carefully... It might be too risky, but there was a very high chance that they were about to die anyway, so they would need any kind of edge they could get.

There was a chance that the Quarian Admiralty Board may already know about this piece of information and still had made no actions which could be interpreted as hostile. That meant that they may have made an agreement with the Federation, so it may be fine to reveal the existence of Yukio. Well, these Quarians could freak out, but with a Turian cruiser coming, they may not have time for that. Besides, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Just like his motto in the university: insanity was acceptable, stupidity - not

Taking out a micro-datacard in his utility belt, he inserted it into his wristband smart watch. It was for Yukio because she was ordered not to reveal herself until he gave her the explicit permission, which was now. Slowing his nervous breathing, Vuong spoke,

"Er... Captain, and the bridge. I need... to show you guys this. Please don't freak out."

"Show us what?"

"My AI, Artificial Intelligence, named Yukio. Yukio, can you hear me?"

With that, a blue hologram of a petty woman in a traditional dress appeared. The Quarian bridge crew suddenly tensed. Vuong was not sure but it seemed that the helmsman and navigator had pulled out their guns, probably pointing at him.

Killed by friendly fire. A very ironic death. He briefly wondered what Rin would say when she heard about this. Something about he being stupid, brain-dead or sprout-brain as usual... probably. Something stirred in his gut... Rin... He wondered if she could get to safety...

The AI looked... bewildered for a moment before settling on her neutral face. She said, "Tran-sama, it's good to see you're back."

"Good to see you again, Yukio. So, connected to my helmet camera?" He paused for a few seconds. "OK, good. To sum up the situation here: the Quarians here hate AIs, so I had to deactivate you while onboard their ship. New aliens came, Turians, hostile, and killed ours and theirs. This ship had an engine failure and is dead in the water. Now, the Turians are planning to capture us, so we are deciding to use a Trojan Horse plan. Potentially death in... sixty minutes, top. No survivors for foreseeable future. Any questions?"

"Should I rig the Mechs, Tran-sama?"

"Yes, do it. Make sure none of Federation's assets fall into enemy's hands... and that includes you too, Yukio." He paused. "I'm sorry for this."

"Don't worry. I understand it. However, I believe that our acquaintances are waiting for some answers."

With that, Vuong looked up, and saw that everyone on the bridge had their guns out, with the Quarians and humans pointing them at each other. Next to him, Yuri and Arthur (the team's alcoholic and gear head) had raised their hidden Glock-51s while they were being aimed at by Quarian pistols. It was almost like a Mexican standoff. Almost, but a Bolivian Army ending would be more... appropriate.

While he could have pulled out his pistol hidden in the thigh pocket, he knew that he would not be fast enough to beat them before they pulled the trigger. Besides, losing men before the Turians arrived would be counter-productive.

The captain was the first to speak up. Her synthetic voice seemed to be affected by... something. He was not so sure about it.

"Is that an... an AI?"

"Yes, second-generation, logistic and technical variant. She—"

"It. Not she."

Vuong narrowed his eyes a bit, and resisted the urge to fight. Despite being an AI, he, and the rest of the team, thought of Yukio as a part of their team, and someone who they considered a close companion, and friend. The disrespect that these Quarians had for her was insulting to say the least, but with the battle had just began to rage outside, it was better to try and make some... what was the word? Right, concessions.

Better to have more than less guns and men.

"She, or 'it' if you prefer, was assigned to us when we started working here three years ago. I can guarantee that she, or 'it', has no ill will against us, or you, or anyone in general, nor she, or 'it', have military prowess."

"How? How do you know that it won't eventually turn on you and try to kill you?"

"Our fiction, probably. In the past, we made movies, or vids, about AIs that went rouge and/or get betrayed by humans before actually having them. So, we know how to handle them properly, and so far, there has been no AI Rebellions, I dare to say that we were right."

The bridge turned silent after that. It was an uneasy silence, thick and filled with killing intent. The tension here was so thick that he could probably cut it with a butter knife. Meanwhile, the cause of the entire situation still stood there, eyes open wide with a very innocent look.

At the same time, shots were being traded as MAC and Mass Effect rounds raced through space. Vuong still received some updates via his HUD and learned that the two Terran frigates were able to cut down ten Turian "cruisers" and four more of their frigates. Despite the successes, things were only going to get worse, and one cruiser was still approaching, its 800m long hull dwarfing the barely 150m long ship.

Still aiming a pistol at Vuong's head, Shaelo asked, "Why do you tell us about... it now?"

"Because I'll need her, to run active once we board that ship. Besides, she would need to contact you directly to warm about incoming enemies and stuff like that, so I didn't want you guys to freak out about a strange voice."

"Listen, I only do this because we have a bigger threat coming... That, and I have seen lots of... questionable things since encountering your kind."

She lowered her gun down and motioned for the others to do the same.

Vuong let out a breath, not realising that he had been holding it. To be honest, this was not a part of the job description that the PAC armed forces gave him when he signed the contract. He should have asked for a higher salary and better mental insurance.

"But, if it proves to be a threat to my crew, I'll destroy it, even if I have to kill you. Clear?"

"Captain, I don't think he expects anything less. Hell, his first girlfriend's father broke him already." Yuri said, smiling slightly.

"Yuri? Shut up." Sighing again, he spoke to the AI. "Yukio, alert the other members of the team. Tell them to open the crates. The insurance program is a go."

A female voice came from behind.

"Insurance program? What does that mean?"

Turning toward the XO of the ship, Vuong made sure that his visor was still de-polarised to show his face. Grinning like a maniac, he asked in a half-joking and half-serious manner. The image did not fit the deadly undertone of the explanation, not one bit:

"What do you think ma'am? We were going into the unknown. We all have basic military training, and of course we brought some weapons onboard just in case things went sour, which it did. So, if you will excuse me, I gotta go back with my team. We have a suicide mission to prepare for."

With that, he stepped onto the elevator with this two teammates, leaving the bridge crew, dumb struck, behind.

Once the elevator started moving, he sighed deeply and began to curse terribly. Truth to be told, he had been bluffing there. He was scared enough to s*** his pants now. It was a war, something that he never really expected himself to take part in, and he now had to fight on front lines. The chance for him to return safely was... practically zero.

He was slightly insane, a bit careless sometimes but stupidity was not word anyone coud use to describe him. Yet, he felt like he was a dunderhead just now.

He had to survive and make it back home, or Mom would kill him for being dead, and Rin would beat him for missing a promised lunch.

 **Location:**

Turian cruiser _TFS Striker_

118000km from Battle Station A-156, toward Mass Relay Theta-T25A

Zhusanjiao System

People's Republic of United China, Terran Federation

 **Date:**

January 29, 2200 (Terran calendar)

0032 (Earth time)

The Turian ship had finally caught up with the Quarian vessel. Being dead in space, it did not take long for the Quarian frigate to be drawn into the hangar. Once there, it was secured to the deck and bulkheads with clamps. When the ship was secured, noticed that the sound seemed louder than normal, but dismissed it as operator error by the technicians in the hangar. From the preliminary reports when the ship was brought aboard, the hull appeared to have been repaired in several sections, but some of them showed heavy denting and as not to have been caused by weapons fire. However, Evocatii Primmus Quiscus did not care about any of that.

These vagrants had violated many important laws of the Council, and they must be punished. After a few... encouragements, via radio, the ramp behind the ship slowly lowered. Well, at least they were smart enough to accept their fate and judgement.

Something did not feel right. The inside of the ship was completely dark. Why did they not turn on their lights? _Damm suit rats_. The last part was muttered by some Munifex next to him. Primmus agreed with that assessment. Those... Quarians were just thieves and beggars, if they did not screw anything up, he and his unit could have a full week for rest and recreation on a nearby Turian colony. A place where men like him could easily pick up some ladies interested in brave and strong men.

 _CLANK! CLANK!_

"Huh?" one of the Turians said, looking at the source of the sound.

Roughly a dozen of oval objects were tossed out from the ships. It took Primmus two seconds to analyze them before he shouted out, "GRENADE!" However, he was too late. Those objects were actually the F-6 Hand Grenade. It was an improved version of the F-1 used by Australia (now part of PAC) prior and during World War III, and was now standard issued equipment of the Terran Federation.

Despite a size of just over 9cm in length and 4cm in diameter, the grenade's effective range of up to 20 meters with shrapnel that could reach as far as 40 meters. Having over 5000 pieces of 1.8mm steel ball fragments and 65 grams of unspecified filling, it had the potential to become a grim reaper on the battle field. To use such a weapon in a relatively confined area like the hangar on a starship in large numbers...

The result would be quite... spectacular.

Evocatii Quiscus was the one nearest to the grenades, and was blown upward, for three meters in the air, before crashing down on the ground. He was dead before hitting the ground though, with some pieces of shrapnel, blasting through his eyes. He could be considered lucky though. Some of his Munifex were seriously wounded, some had their arms or legs blown off, while others had stomach wounds. All of them were lying on the ground, crying out in pain.

Meanwhile, a line of... bipedal robots, no huge robotic suits, stepped down on the clamps. There were three of them, each was at least three meter in height and each had a clear cockpit view. In the cockpit was... an alien. Beneficiarii Quinruns Maurdros suddenly had a terrible feeling come upon him. Despite being his injuries, he managed to think relatively clearly. Strange weapons able to drain his shield shortly, robotic suits that were still in the research phase in the Hierarchy...

The Quarians were not in the process of uplifting, they were making First Contact, maybe even an alliance... If there was the potential of an alliance, it would be forged now. The Turian attacks had made them banded together.

Pouring out from behind the three suits was half of a platoon of Quarians, with half of them Marines, specialising in close-range and ship-borne combat. After them came more...aliens. He could not see any of them clearly, though. Both the infantry and the robot controllers were wearing heavy combat suits, and if their overall shapes were any of the indication, he would swear that they were close relatives of the Asari. _Spirits_ , the only reason he did not think them as Asari from the beginning was because he was told that there was none here, only "suit rats and their pets". That, and those new aliens did not have any breasts.

The door on the far end of the hangar opened up, pouring more troops in as reinforcements entered the hangar. The three robotic suits quickly crossed their arms in front of them, creating a small shield. Behind them, the crew of the captured Quarian frigate opened fire, and with loud noise of the aliens' guns made Quinruns even more dazed. What kind of weapon created such a noise? It didn't matter. They were effective. Very effective.

He had to give them credit. While Quarian weapons were blocked by the kinetic barriers of the reinforcements, those... strange weapons just went guns blazing. The lucky ones, those with their barriers relatively intact, were quickly singled out and attacked by these aliens. The combined high rate of fire and sheer firepower quickly drained their barriers, killing them.

The reinforcements, consisting of over 20 infantry, was destroyed in less than ten seconds while they had not been able to injure any of the boarders.

A massacre... Boarding action... It had been a very long time since a Turian vessel had to be on the receiving end of those words. The last time was probably during the Krogan Rebellion, nearly 15 centuries ago, and it seemed the Spirits wanted to teach his people a lesson...

A robotic suit, their leader if Quinruns had to guess, turned and walked toward him. Each step of that... giant metallic monster shook the deck beneath him, causing him more pain. Blue blood was seeping out of his belly wound, seeping between his fingers, in his vain attempt to stop the bleeding. It spread on the floor, mixing with the blood of other dead Turians around him. Glancing up, he realised that he was staring at the grey hard suit of the new aliens.

He barely had enough strength to ask, "Why... why did you…kill us?" He coughed, feeling flood come to his mouth. "You should…have…surrendered…"

"Surrender, my arse you dammed _bird_. I'm ready spit in your face if you suggest that you me again."

"Are you...sure?" he asked, coughing again.

"We are. Through License of our own damn selves. We create. We destroy. We create anew. We are the eye that follows the course and the aim of the stars, the ear that hears the tree fall in the forest, the hand that builds the gun, the voice that sings the song. You damn birds cannot stop us, because all you of crows just made a huge mistake. _We are the human race!_ Now, get out of the f***ing way!"

Quinruns suddenly found himself flying through the hangar before hitting the bulkhead. The last image he saw was of a robotic suit raising one of its feet. Near him was a line of dead or dying Turians.

He only had a moment to think, _What have we done?_

Then, the world turned black.

* * *

 **Evocati: Roman ranking for veteran soldiers**

 **Munifex: Roman ranking for soldiers, equivalent to "private" nowadays**

 **Beneficiarii: Roman ranking for orderlies (probably equalled to "sergeant" nowadays)**

 **Contuberium: Roman unit consists of eight legionnaires, equivalent to a "squad" nowadays**

* * *

 **Well, enjoy the new chapter guy, please read and review. Constructive criticism is always welcomed.**


	7. Chapter 6 - Edited

**Well, the exams are finished. Eight of them, so far, I knew I passed three and I had to resit another. Meanwhile, I have to redo a practical assignment. You know, engineering stuff.**

 **Still, on another note, Donald Trump had became the 45th President of the United States of America... You know, I mentioned that by 2200, the video titled "The Debacle of Donald Trump" will have become the second most viewed video on Youtube. In addition, the mid-21st century would have seen the rise of racism and conflict. Well... there are a few times an engineering student says he would live to be wrong, and this is one of those times.**

* * *

 **Britain: BREXIT is the stupidest, most self-destructive act a country could undertake.**

 **USA: Hold my beer.**

 **\- Credit: 9GAG, 18 Tweets About How America Has Out-Brexited Brexit, screenshot on Twitter, unknown (blurred name) user**

* * *

 **Apollonir: Yep, they reap what they sow. Moreover, I also believe in the concept of "interest" when talking about "payment".**

 **ExS-DrIfTeRr: Thanks for your review. And no, English is not my first language.**

 **OBSERVER01: The dogs of war are YET to be unleashed, these are only the "skirmishes" by human standard. Watch when the Turians find the other Mass Relay in the system and the _Predator_ fleet moves in for a... light snack.**

 **Sajuuk: Thanks for your review. While we do have robots in form of Titanfall or MechWarriors, they are not widely used in the military. Police? Yes. But the army? No. Mostly because of the wide spread of anti-armour weapons. However, this story will have (at least) one scene of "Titanfall". I can guarantee that.**  
 **And while bunkers and escape ships are equipped to all colonies, some men volunteered to stay behind in Shanxi (like the young men and the old chef in Chapter 4). Their reasons are somewhere between "like to see the aliens" or "order from #######".**  
 **However, I do not give humanity stuff like DEW (Direct Energy Weapon), because I don't want a humanity too OP and I don't know how to "solve" the energy demand. The anti-matter reactors can create lots of energy, but not enough for energy weapons and shielding. But I leave an insane level of hull strength on human ships, so it may help a bit.**

* * *

 **Location:**  
Turian cruiser TFS _Striker_  
123000km from Battle station A-156 towards Mass Relay Theta-T25A  
Zhusanjiao system  
People's Republic of United China, Terran Federation

 **Time:**  
January 29, 2200 (Terran calendar)  
0103 (Earth time)

Tran Kien Vuong, Mech-operator, and acting sergeant of a newly-created militia unit, was amazed, but he was not sure which part he should find… amusing. Firstly, as someone who had received Federation Guardsmen training, he and his friends had been conscripted into the armed forces as militia. Secondly, they were about to board an enemy warship in a very special method. A way so crazy and insane, that it might actually work. Last but not least, he was the one who had originally came up with that plan.

Initially, he guessed that he would be alive for roughly fifteen minutes once the bullets started flying. The mech-suit, while sturdy, was not exactly designed for war, even though half of the designing team was either fans of the Gundam series or military enthusiasts. It was further confirmed with an investigation of the Terran Armed Force, that these Mech-suits, while manoeuvrable, could still be tracked, locked on, and destroyed by anti-armour missile. Integrating them into military was deemed too expensive for too small a gain.

That being said, Vuong was quite surprise to see the hardened transparent cockpit holding up against the sustain barrage of fire for something like 20 minutes already. Holly Mother of Maria, it was a real fire storm. Streaks of light whizzing past him, or worse, coming toward him. Granted, he had been shot at before, but those had been either paintball rounds in a controlled environment or on video games (where he quickly gained respectable reputation as a support man with a marksman rifle). Here, he was shot at with real ammunition, by unknown mechanism with unknown damage. One slight mistake and he, or worse, his friends, would suffer, or, heaven forbidden, be dead.

Crossing both mechanical arms before the cockpit to create a make-shift shield, he charged forward. The alien rounds were digging into them, making the HUD in the cockpit flash red. Mechanical errors, hydraulic malfunctions, electrical sparks, and something about a lower-than-standard structural integrity were a constant on the display. The last part was probably due to the fact that the suit had already taken a serious beating before.

The hulking suit quickly approached and broke through the Turian soldiers hiding behind doors and corners. Once again, he introduced them to the deadliness of martial arts, which had been refined continuously over the history. Standing in the middle of a T-junction, he swung both of his arms out to the side. Responding to the movement, the Mech-suit's arms copied his movement, crushing two Turian soldiers into the wall, leaving… a mess of "blue paste" behind.

Behind him, some Turian soldiers were too shocked to move, due to the brutal and sudden execution, and they paid for their loss of focus. A barrage of fire was unleashed, killing them quickly. The fire came from the makeshift unit of five humans and roughly fifteen Quarians. Despite having no joint training before, these unlucky and reluctant soldiers were still able to push through the security detachment on the Turian ship, mainly due to the element of surprise and their brutality. Though if Vuong had anything to say, they were very close to having the odds turned against them.

The Codex given to them by the Quarians earlier had been really helpful, identifying "key" equipment of these _crows_. Most notable among them was the "kinetic barrier", capable of stopping virtually any bullets used by humanity. There was a way to get past it: firing enough rounds and the barrier would break. The smartest men, women and machines in the area had speculated that roughly 15 rounds coming from standard assault rifle would do the job.

For militia using the AK-12S, it meant that they had to fire at least 30 rounds to guarantee the broken barrier, mostly due to a lack of proper training and abysmal aim. However, it did not mean they were weak. Years in engineering school had forced them to think quickly and laugh in the face of hardship. They learned that most of the Turian infantry's ammunition was just small grains of metal fired at high speeds. Meanwhile, humans had a larger… assortment, from AP (armour penetrating) rounds for the ones wearing body armours, tracer to mark an enemy position, and the infamous incendiary rounds to deal with both armoured and unarmoured men.

There, it was quickly decided that at least one human would open fire to drain the shields of enemy troopers alongside the Quarians. Once the barriers were down, the other four would unleash "human creativity" upon these poor souls. Meanwhile, the other three mech suits would act as mobile shields for as long as possible, trying to keep their friends alive a bit longer to reach the escape pods.

Slowly, the group of reluctant men and women moved forward, leaving behind a trail of bodies of dead enemy and destruction, while suffering no losses, so far. They were close to their destination, a room believed to contain escape pods. However, not all progressed in such an acceptable way. The most worrying part was their morale was dropping as they continued.

Some of these young men were beginning to suffer from combat fatigue. In last 30 minutes, they had experienced seeing death up close and personal, near death experiences, taking part in a combat operation, and being forced to kill. None of them were trained as professional soldiers, and Vuong had a feeling that if any of them survived this, all would need serious counselling. He felt ill in his stomach, the stench of death all around him probably played a major role in that, but he had no choice. He tried to shove that thought in a corner of his mind. He could throw up again, cry and get drunk later. Now, he had to fight to survive and escape first.

He again resisted the urge to throw up when he thought about dead Turians under his hands. An unpleasant sight, and enough to make the _gung-ho_ spirit in him die instantly. Hell, he had already started to regret boarding the enemy ship already, but if he did not push on, he would be captured and probably tried in a kangaroo court, death would be preferable to that.

Therefore, he had no choice but to advance. Pushing himself forward, he closed in on the Turians, quickly neutralising a fire team with a few basic punches and kicks. Those _crows_ had barriers, but those shields were not built for the heavy impacts coming from three Mech-suits, especially when piloted by enraged pilots. Twenty more enemies were dealt with before they decided that the situation was becoming… unfavourable.

Looking forward, Vuong quickly noticed that a Turian soldier standing at the back was holding a more "block-ish" gun. Most (if not all) of the crows he had seen so far always carried a streamlined weapon. However, this new guy here was clearly fit in the category of a heavy weapons expert, which meant he was about to die.

Crossing the arms in front of the chest as a reflex, Vuong missed the view of the weapon charging. However, he did not miss the result of the attack. This time, both of the mech's mechanical arms were torn apart, almost literally. Hydraulic fluid gushed from the tubing, and sparks flew from the failing electronic systems.

The whole cockpit was filled with red light, a warning appearing on the HUD. Vuong let out a full line of swearing and curses, in Vietnamese, English, Dutch, German and Russian, courtesy of being a man of 23rd century. Both mechanical arms were useless and no longer functioning. This made him a highly tempting target for the _crows_ in the area.

"Yukio! Take control of the mech. Charge forward 35 meters, or as far as you can, then activate the self-destruct sequence!"

"Yes, Tran-sama."

The answer of the team's AI was drowned in the sound of gun fire when he opened the cracked cockpit. Seeing his unit was immobilised, his friends (both old and new) intensified their fire, keeping the enemy's heads down. Grabbing an AK-12S from the cockpit, he jumped out of the suit and rolled to the side, getting behind a vehicle, an infantry carrier by the look of it. Soon after getting behind cover, the mech suit ran forward at maximum speed while the self-destruct countdown began in his helmet.

A few seconds later, a sudden tremble explosion shook everyone to their knees. The fire coming from the Turians died down almost instantly, and it appeared that his beloved mech had already cleared the way for them. Holding the trustworthy AK-12S in his hands, he inserted a magazine, chambered a round, flipped out the folded shoulder stock, switched off the safety, and turned on his sights, a "red dot" variant Reflex sight.

A hulking shadow came up on his right. It was the second Mech-suit in the team, controlled by Jack, a.k.a. _Daniels._ A voice was raised through the comm.

"Are you alright man?"

"Yeah, still alive here. No scratch, so far," he answered, and turned to the Quarians. "Captain, how far is it to the escape pods?"

The synthesis voice of Captain Shaelo'Fifin vas Ta'lak was heard on the radio. It was a pity that Yukio could not "fake" her voice, still, Vuong enjoyed listening to Japanese-accented English, mostly because he was a pervert (just like his entire team):

"One hundred and three meters forward! Still, they may have already changed the design since the last time I was on board."

"Copy that. C'mon—Hrgh!"

The voice of his friend was suddenly cut off by a ball of bright blue-purple energy slamming into the glass cockpit. In front of his eyes, the glass, known for being being insanely hard to crack (his glass had already taken a beating and still in one piece), was "pulled" into the ball before being crushed into tiny pieces. However, it was not the worst part. Jack was being pulled into the ball too. The problem was… that he was still strapped to the mech control system. Instead of just flying toward the ball, he was being strained between both the ball and his mech. Yelling in pain until after a few seconds, his body was torn apart, his blood being drawn into the ball of energy…

Vuong was frozen in fear. The gory death of his friend was burned into his eyes, and a heavy wretched feeling slowly formed. He was the one who had proposed the idea of a Trojan Horse… His friend's death was on him… Jack's blood was on his hands…

"Victor… Victor… Victor!"

He heard someone calling his name…probably. He was in a daze… Jack, that trigger-happy guy, the one who "corrupted" the entire group with poker, blackjack and grease, was dead. A nice young man with a promising career, a girl he had been flirting with, a nice car… he was dead now. It was solely his fault. It was his insane idea that killed Jack.

Vuong was a prideful young man, a bit arrogant, but it was because he had the skills to back it up. He was loyal to his country, and with the history lessons and folk lore, it did not take long for him to believe in the mantra, "For Motherland!" Hell, half of the history tales he heard told the same thing: There was no greater honour than sacrificing your life for Motherland.

Now, seeing his friend die up close and personal, and without any forewarning… It was a real slap to the face. The only training he had came from his contract, he was trained as a Federation Guardsman, whose main objective was to guard and provide security to civilians, to free up manpower for the main army. In other words, he was trained in a support role, not for front line combat.

His… arrogance. His… stupidity had caused his friend to die. Vuong knew that he would have to live with that knowledge for the rest of his life.

Suddenly, someone slapped him on the side of his head, causing him to hit it on the Turian vehicle. He blinked and looked to see it was Arthur, the team's gear-head and treasurer (and loan shark).

Grabbing Vuong's helmet, the _bourgeois_ let loose a string of curse before yelling at his face:

"D****t Victor! Get your s**t together. You ************ better get up and f*****g shoot those g*****n crows before they f*****g kill us. It's your f*****g plan after all. Get up man, get up and fight!"

As if to underscore Arthur's rant, a war cry was yelled out over the radio wave. It was in Russian. It was the yell of Yuri.

"Месть за брата героя!" [Mest' za brata geroya! – Revenge for the Hero Brother!]

It was quickly followed by the strong beat of drum, and the music, clearly ordered by Yuri, began. The AK was put back in his hands and was raised up with Arthur's assistance. Vuong pulled the trigger a few seconds after the lyrics began to play.

" _Arise, vast country,  
 _Arise for a mortal fight  
Against the dark fascist forces,  
Against the cursed hordes._"_

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Vuong recognised this song as "Sacred War", written in 1941, during World War 2, when the Nazi Germany was stupid enough to invade USSR and awaken the sleeping bear. They initially had successes, but only in the beginning. This song was written in those dark early days. Needless to say, it had become a highly recognisable piece of art of that war.

He landed ten full metal jacket rounds on a Turian along with some incendiary from Arthur. The poor soldiers quickly got his shield depleted and was finished off by a Quarian. Yuri, acting as the last vanguard, stayed in the middle of enemy formation and swung a heavy metal pole around while singing the fearsome song, albeit with terrible tone.

" _Let noble wrath  
 _Boil over like a wave!  
This is the peoples' war,  
A sacred war!__

 _ _Let noble wrath  
Boil over like a wave!  
This is the peoples' war,  
A sacred war!_"_

They say that when a berserker was pissed, his combat prowess could be increased significantly, and the same could be said about Yuri. He swung his giant metal pole around, throwing some unlucky Turians into the wall, and temporarily distracted the concentration of firepower on the mech's body.

Vuong knew that despite the stereotypes, Yuri and Jack were close friends (one becoming the other's brother-in-law may help that). Clearly, Jack's death had greatly affected on Yuri, which may explain why the said FEER operator was screaming and not actually singing per se.

" _We shall repulse the oppressors  
 _Of all ardent ideas.  
The rapists and the plunderers,  
The torturers of people._"_

The sacred chorus repeated, and with each line, Yuri swung the pole again. By now, it had already been stained with the blue blood of the aliens, and the team had been able to advance 10 meters further. The communists in the 20th century may not be the best people ever lived, but they clearly knew how to write a good song. As someone who knew crap about politics, Vuong must grudgingly acknowledge that.

Gently pulling the trigger, he maintained a three-round burst, an easy tempo and no rush. He steeled himself into that thought. Discard all unnecessary ideas and emotion. Focus on the fight and surviving.

Under the fury and storms of blue lighting streaks were the steady, firm and deadly traces of fire and smoke. They steadily advanced, moving from cover. Some had fallen, while others were about to. Vuong felt a pain in his lower left torso. Looking down, he could see that a round had punctured his hard suit but the extent of the injury was unknown to him. It probably was not fatal. _Probably_ being the key word in that statement. The lack of severe pain could mean that it was just a bad bruise, or it was a combination of adrenaline and shock from both the emotional and biological due to the death all around him refused to let him stay still and think clearly.

" _The black wings shall not dare  
 _Fly over the Motherland,  
On her spacious fields  
The enemy shall not dare tread!_"_

Two more Quarians fell, one on his left and the other on his right. Vuong could not focus on them; he was… busy, trying to pin down some more aliens. Strangely, they were not _crows_ , but _blue space chicks_ and _froggy?_ Vuong's must have been working at light speed, because he was able to identify them as Asari and Salarian. However, he quickly dismissed that knowledge and continued to fire at anything that threatened him and his team. A few more shots from the rifle and he saw one more barrier taken down, the unlucky chick was finished off by a duo of ME fire from Sahir.

Every human still alive intensified their fire, aiming a bit better with the new lines echoed in their helmets:

" _To the rotten fascist filth,  
 _We shall drive a bullet into the forehead  
For the scum of humanity  
We shall build a solid coffin!_"_

Sahir, a former pompous prince of a former kingdom in Middle East, was wielding two guns scavenged from the dead Turians. Apparently, he had already depleted his ammo. Leaning against him was the limping figure of Ibere, the team's local…recreational substance dealer, not that Vuong used his product regularly. Both of men were injured, quite seriously. Sahir had blood soaking through the front of his hard suit while one of Ibere's legs and arms were punctured.

In front of him, the last mech of the team was taken down. Yuri was hit by at least three heavy weaponry operators, and his suit, which had already been seriously damaged, got its right leg and left arm blown off. The glass cockpit was shattered. As he attempted to exit the mech, the operator became a live target practice.

Despite their best efforts, Liang "Imperium" and Zohar "Shiva" failed to pin down the incoming aliens, and unable to save Yuri "Shpagin". Letting out a savage cry, they finished the song that had stopped with the sudden death of Yuri. Granted, their Russian was abysmal, but he was still able to know what they were singing, thanks Yukio.

" _Let noble wrath  
 _Boil over like a wave!  
This is the peoples' war,  
A sacred war!__

 _ _Let noble wrath  
Boil over like a wave!  
This is the peoples' war,  
A sacred war!_"_

The sound of "click" told Vuong that he had run out of ammo for his favourite assault rifle. He brought six magazines with him, plus one more loaded into the gun initially. Seven in total, 210 rounds, with roughly six kills.

Six lives were forcefully taken by his hands, not including those he had killed with his mech, and it was not a very good feeling now that the weight of taking another life was beginning to bear down on him.

Throwing the gun to the floor, he pulled out his sidearm, a Glock-51, and continued to open fire. However, he quickly realised that his team was quickly losing the initiative. More enemy was pouring in from different sides, from the front, the left and behind. He hated where the run was going to.

If they failed to reach the escape pods, they would be captured. If that was to happen, he had no option but to make sure that the enemy got none of their equipment. The best way to guarantee that was to blow everything up, and the team had it covered. Each of the three Mech-suits, before going to the Quarian frigate, had been rigged with enough explosives to flatten a concrete building. Furthermore, Yuri had added his own modifications by placing several canisters with steel some steel balls on parts of the mech. It had been explained as paying back interest...

Jack's mech had also detonated a few moments ago, clearing out some of the reinforced bulkheads, with only Yuri's remaining. However, if he blew it up... Doing so would guarantee success, and his death. To be honest, Vuong was not sure if he had been ready for death, but he remembered a tale from his grandfather (May that old pervert rest in peace). His handgun had already ran out of rounds, he had no grenades, and he only had an entrenchment tool and his combat knife left.

Grinning like the one who about to face death (more like a maniac), he spoke in the helmet, "Yukio, slave the self-destruct signal to the bio-signs of the team. If the last of us are killed or captured, activate the self-destruct sequence for both you and the Mechs. _Capisce_?"

"Yes, Tran-sama. May you be victorious. It's an honour serving you."

"No, Yukio, the honour is mine..."

Smiling a bit, Vuong pulled out his shovel and knife and hold them in his right and left hand. Raising the shovel up in the air, he yelled

"Men! How many Gods do we believe in?"

His Mech-team, upon recognizing what their leader was trying to do, and the reference, screamed back, "One!"

"What's his name?"

"Death!"

"What do we tell him?"

"Not today!"

"D*** right! Not today, my friends! Today, we say "NO" to Death! Comrades, CHARGE! For Motherland! For Terra! Kill them all!"

The last part was clearly a spur of the moment, but Vuong did not care about it. He had already jumped over a half-destroyed jeep (?) and charged forward. The enemy, possibly stunned at the sight of his actions (or his stupidity), did not fire for several seconds.

It was their mistake.

His shovel was already half-way to slashing an Asari's face when they realized what was happening, but they were not fast enough.

He killed the Asari, slashing across her face and letting out a primal yell. Strangely, he felt no emotion, no regret, nor anger, just plain nothingness. Vuong didn't think about it until much later on whether that was a good thing or not.

* * *

 **Location:**  
TFSV _Midnight_  
Vessel number [REDACTED]  
Station [REDACTED]  
Zhusanjiao System  
People's Republic of United China, Terran Federation

 **Date:**  
January 29, 2200 (Terran calendar)  
0148 (Earth time)

The signal from the Mech-team was lost, and that meant multiple things. Either they had been killed or captured. However, those brave young men were still able to send back crucial information, mostly in terms of small arms and tactics. Moreover, it appeared that mechs were something beyond comprehension for these aliens, which could be exploited further in the future.

However, HIGHCOM had already tasked him with another mission: deep recon. The _Midnight_ would follow the Turian cruiser, find out where they came from, tag that location on the galactic map and proceed to run SIGINT collections, with the use of lethal force allowed only when necessary. Moreover, they were also tasked to recover the bodies on the Quarian frigate _Ta'lak_ if possible.

Luckily, they were well-armed for a prowler. Most prowlers were given certain tools when needed to ensure their safety and complete of the mission. XO Miranda Lawson had already finished the weapon distribution orders. Each crew member would receive a standard loadout of one assault rifle or shotgun, a sidearm, two or three grenades and/or flash bangs. The Marine detachment would receive the same loadout, but with some added equipment, including grapple belts or magnetic boots.

Regarding small arms, it could be only described by a single word: fearsome. The standard assault rifles of the Terran Federation, the MASR-7 "Lancer" ( **M** agnetic **A** ccelerated A **s** sault **R** ifle Mark 7 Light) and the durable and reliable AK-25M, were modular and could be equipped with different equipment like reflex sights or under barrel grenade launchers. The amount of ammunition was more than enough, with each crew member allocated ten magazines. Moreover, Miranda said that they still had enough equipment to arm two more men in the way the Mech-team had done.

It was a pity that they had only a limited number light machine guns and heavy weapons. The sheer rate of fire would be beneficial to drain down the barriers of Turian soldiers, and had only one rocket launcher and four missiles. So far, he had very little information on enemy armoured units. Granted, they had been seen on the Turian cruiser, but had not been used when fighting off the boarders.

Taking a deep breath, Sanders looked at the screen. The situation was dire, with all three Terran destroyers had already been destroyed by the overwhelming firepower of the enemy. The only good news was that they had put up one hell of a fight. All of them, despite being under heavy fire, had been able to launch their missiles and have them coincide with their barrage of MAC rounds. Furthermore, utilizing the close range, they turned their point-defense system onto the Turian fleet. 30mm auto-cannons and 50mm dual-barreled turrets were able to dealt serious damage to the enemy.

Despite their heroism, the defenders were unable to stop the invaders, but made them to pay dearly. At least seven ships were turned into debris, with one obliterated by to a suicide ramming action, and ten to twelve ships having been critically damaged. He could hear the conversation between the human captain and the Turian admiral thanks to his comm officer's capabilities. He soon regretted that.

Sander knew that he could help them. His ship carried nuclear warheads, but he had received orders already, and he was to stay put. It was a curse on his "humanity", leaving friends behind and without help. He knew that he had his duty, and he would follow his orders to collect information on the Turian cruiser and find their home world. Sacrificing himself to save a few ships could only doom humanity to their subjugation.

Mumbling a curse, Sander took a deep breath, watching the lightly damaged ship before ordering,

"Helm, bring us close to X-ray Five. Stealth systems: active. Mission Hades is a go now. I repeat, Hades is a go."

"Aye, Captain… Sir, what about our comrades? We should do something to help them."

What the said man was correct. While the four ships had already been wiped out, the station was continuing to fight. She and her commander were still dishing out death and destruction. However, the enemy had already turned their guns on her, and boarding craft were also sighted. From what long-range sensors could tell them, the Heavy-MAC had been damaged in the fight, and reducing their combat ability. The station may hold for a while, but it would eventually fall.

That knowledge was his burden, and he could not help them… at least not directly. Placing a hand on the grip of his pistol on his belt, he clenched his free hand. Opening a channel to the weapons bay, he asked

"Weapons Control, this is the Captain. How many HOUND warheads do we have, and can to customise them?"

* * *

A man, in his mid-40, walked into his office, a cup of coffee in his hand. While not being a very important figure in the Terran Federation, and only a small cog in the giant machine, his position allowed him to know many things before they became public. For example, the scandal of Senator Elizabeth Fowler and the "loss" of over 500 thousand classified messages that were improperly handled (how could he lost them?), or the insurgent activity on the planet Harvest. However, his position did not always bring good experiences.

This morning was one of those times.

Daniel Laska, who, despite his... extreme views of religion, race and sexes, and having no knowledge on politics, had just been elected as the Governor of planet Aurora. It was known that Aurora was considered one of the most beautiful eco-systems in the Federation. There had been many plans to build resorts and other commercial businesses on the planet, but all had been rebuffed by the previous Governor, Jon Okasa, to preserve the natural beauty. Now, Mr...or Governor-elect Laska would repeal all of the work, and probably turning the entire planet into his milking cow. He would do whatever it took to "get rid of the undesirables" and make Aurora "the Jewel of the Federation".

There was also the divorce of the "Incredible Duo" - Mr. and Mrs. Chan. They were real figures of the movie industry, famous for their acting talent as well as charity works. Their sheer presence in a movie can guarantee its success. If it was not that **** ****** ***** put her naked *** on Mr. Chan's **** after drugging him... Well, the news report here also said something about a woman in "pink bikini suit" was "found death in an abandoned warehouse with deadly wounds", presumed "tortured". Just a coincident, probably.

And the First Con... WHAT? He looked at the news report again. He could not believe his eyes. A new alien race had appeared, and this time, they greeted humanity by killing their new friends, and demanding humanity to surrender and become slaves in all but name. Contact with the Zhusanjiao System had been cut off, no one knew what was happening out there. Complete black out.

It could mean different things, but the first thing that came to mind was war. No, he could not believe it… Everything seemed to be pointing toward that, though, or at least that something was going on. He cursed loudly.

The worst part? He had just woken up thirty minutes ago, had yet to drink any of his coffee, and the hot water for his shower was broken. He was not in any condition to deal with all of this.

Glancing at his cabinet, he considered mixing something strong with his coffee before shrugging. Pulling out a bottle of whiskey, he poured a healthy amount into his cup before taking a large drink. He needed to make a few, or a lot of, phone calls.

* * *

 **\- Terran Federation**

 **\+ Mech-suit team of Battle Station A-156**

 **Leader/Operator: Tran Kien Vuong ("Kilo Victor"): unknown status, last seen injured, presume killed or** **captured  
** **Operator: Yuri Shopankov ("Shpagin"): killed in action  
** **Operator: Jack Turner ("Daniels"): killed in action  
** **Controller: Xiao Liang ("Imperium")** **: unknown status, last seen injured, presume killed or** **captured  
Mechanics: Zohar Ramantha ("Shiva"):** **unknown status, last seen injured, presume killed or** **captured  
Mechanics: Arthur Gutner (unknown nickname): unknown status  
Mechanics: Sahir Mohammed (unknown nickname): ****unknown status, last seen heavily injured, presume killed  
Mechanics: Ibere Luigi (unknown nickname): ****unknown status, last seen heavily injured, presume killed**

 **\- Citadel Council**

 **\+ Patrol Fleet**

 **Rear Admiral Desolas Arterius: killed in action**

* * *

 **Last edit is made on January 25 2017. Tremendous thanks to Cpt Reynolds. Without him, my story would not be this smooth and error-free**


	8. Chapter 7 - Edited

**Well, things went reasonably well so far. I think I've redone my practical report as my professor wanted. But I just had a funny feeling. He held the meeting (again) tomorrow, guess I'll get in and ask him to see my work again, just for safety.**

 **Regarding the story, I guess I'd invoke _a few_ tropes. Because I can and I like doing so. Still, wonder if my story get the recommendation on TV Tropes?**

 **Note that this chapter (chapter 7) takes place roughly in the same time as last chapter (chapter 6). It begins a bit earlier, and ends a bit later.**

* * *

 **OBSERVER01: These fights on Turian cruiser may be brutal, but those were (almost) untrained personnel. Wait until the next chapter. I'd use multiple unconventional tactics that may or may not maim some one...**

 **OMAC001: Thanks for your support**

* * *

 **Location:**  
Battle Station A-156  
Zhusanjiao System  
People's Republic of United China, Terran Federation  
 **  
Time:**  
January 29, 2200 (Terran calendar)  
0037 (Earth time)

Captain Leonardo Vincent of Terran Navy brow furrowed. The Quarian corvette _Ta'lak_ had been captured and the mech-team that had been detached to the vessel had already made contact with the Turians, as it was planned. So far, reports were optimistic. A squad of Turians, without shielding, was wiped out by grenades, and in addition, they had met little resistance from the security team on board.

However, Leo did not have time to dwell on that. He was facing a far more problematic situation: namely the twenty five cruisers, ninety frigates and two dreadnaughts of the Turian fleet. Translating those ships into human's standard would be twenty five frigates, ninety heavy corvettes and two light destroyers (or heavy frigates). Despite being lower in the classification scale, their sheer number was still too much to handle.

Being vastly outnumbered, he did not think he could live to see the next day. He currently had two destroyers in action, and two more held in reserve, but he would have to use one of them for evacuation. That left him with three destroyers to fight against 117 enemy ships, the correct ratio would be nearly 40 to 1. At least, he had already paid up on his insurance premiums. His family would be well-off after his death. However, he knew they would never be the same if he died…Family…

That was when he remembered, vaguely, a battle on Earth from a long time ago. Wiezna, the Nazi Third _Reich_ fighting the Polish Home Army. 40 to 1…

Taking a deep breath, he spoke again,

"Serina, I want firing solution on the most heavily armed enemy ship, and prepare the drones. I want them ready to be launched at the moments of notice. Commander Cho, evacuate all non-vital personnel. Use one of the destroyers we have here to do that, and prepare to repel boarders… Ready the self-destruct sequence too; we can't take risks here."

"Consider it done, Captain."

"Aye, sir."

Commander Cho retreated from the bridge with the status bar appearing on the screen. At the moment, it was at 7% and rising. Once the bar was filled, the Heavy-MAC would fire again. From past experience, one round was enough to destroy an enemy cruiser, or even a dreadnaught. However, with their staggering numbers, he had to alter his tactics greatly…

"Serina, open a link to TFNSV _Hornet_ and TFNSV _Falcon_."

The images of the two destroyer Captains appeared on the holoscreen. One was younger, in his mid-thirties while the other was a much older, at roughly mid to late-fifties. They were attached to the defense of the system, and his battle station. As a result, they were his subordinates, and now, it was his responsibility to give them the ultimate order.

 _Hornet_ 's Captain was a young man of Polish-descendant, with brown hair and brown-ish eyes. Despite his young age, he was quite mature and one of the more "perceptive" commanders of Terran Federation Navy. In contrast, his colleague, came from a German family, and known for being a hot head and a bit of a loose cannon. He also had the reputation of being an old pervert (not that he enjoy the second adjective, yet, he never denied it).

The younger man spoke first, calmness and conviction filled his voice. Hard steel presented in both his eyes and his stance. He adjusted his grey uniform before speaking, "Sir, we're ready for combat, death if it comes to it. Just give us the order, sir."

"We're the same here, sir."

Leo was filled with pride at the length these men were willing to go. Serving with these men had been a true privilege. Taking a deep breath, he spoke

"Captains, I have firing solution on Tango-Eight, a Turian so-called cruiser and the enemy flagship. I need you to deal with the rest of the fleet. Do whatever it takes to stop them, but don't do anything too crazy. Any questions?" He looked at both images and saw none. "No? Good. Proceed Captains… For the Motherland…"

The Polish captain just curtly snapped to attention before his hologram winked out. Meanwhile, the Germanic captain remained long enough to answer him before following the example of his comrade. "For Terra."

Leo sighed while watching the blank holoscreen. Both of those battle cries were quite old. The first was probably the oldest among the known. It was made famous during World War 2 on the Eastern front, and again in World War 3 on Russian and Asian front. Leo had to admire their patriotism, despite being overwhelmed, they had not budged, and continued to rushed forward with the cry, "For Motherland". History had already noted the fate of Nazi Germany, the US 3rd Army, the Chinese 19th and 25th Armies and the European 2nd Army, having been on the receiving end of Russian anger.

"For Terra" was newer, first heard on _Sagan's Voyage_ , the first FTL-capable ship of humanity, on her maiden trip. It had been full risks then. There was no guarantee that the Shock Drive would function properly, and for all intents and purposes, the ship could have been lost in hyperspace or blown to pieces. The crew, however, just shrugged and spoke softly, "For Terra." Fifty years later, a rush of colonists to distant systems was fueled with the very same line.

All hardship; all enemies, could be beaten and overcome, all "For Motherland" and "For Terra". Leo stared at the holo screen, repeating those two phrases, then a faint smile came to his face. The enemy fleet had already opened fire on his two destroyers with negligible damage. All most missed, but those that managed to find their target caused damage to the hulls. The _Hornet_ 's lights began flickering, and flying erratically. Bright flashes went off across her hull and Leo thought that the ship had been disabled. It was not until Serena brought up that the ship had not been severely damaged that he realized that her captain was faking it all, something Leo had never ever considered before.

His two destroyers moved into the debris of the defeated Turian fleet, luring them in and waiting for the chance to strike. The _crows_ , either being arrogant, stupid, or both of those characteristic, rushed forward, thinking that they had two "dreadnoughts" injured and on the run.

Leo almost felt sorry for them. _Almost_ being the key word, especially when all hell broke loose.

Each destroyer was armed with 18 Archer missile pods, and those two just launched a volley from their full payloads, 36 anti-ship missiles. Coming with several different variants, the Archer was a go-to weapon when a captain wanted to deal serious damage on enemy ship, even if his ship was completely outweighed by the enemy. This salvo here was equipped with standard anti-matter warheads, each one with the potential energy to melt down over 3500 tons of iron. Compare with the MAC rounds, one warhead was rated at roughly 0.1 kilotons.

It sounded small (which it was), but there was only 5 miligrams in each warhead. That was the power of an anti-matter weapon, and humanity had plenty of them, thanks to their build-up after World War 3.

Thirty missiles soared through the empty space, aiming at the dreadnaught known as "Tango-Eight". From the sensor sweep, only three of the missiles were shot down by their laser defense system while the rest began to slam into the enemy ship's kinetic barriers, but that fact had already been taken into account by the captains.

Four MAC rounds, each was rated at 64.6 kilotons of TNT, with the first two being fired to coincide with the missile impact, and the combined firepower was able to overcome the shield of the first dreadnaught. The next two MAC rounds shot toward the ship with virtually nothing to stop it and was able to score two direct hits on the damaged poor vessel.

"Tango-Eight" was blasted off from its original vector and started drifting in space. Two holes, each larger than a MAC round, could be seen clearly from afar. Sparks and minor explosions filled the void of the dead ship.

The movement of the Turian fleet suddenly became staggered, as if they were hit in the head while being drunk. The ferocity of the barrage was enough to cause them to pause for a moment, as if trying to compose themselves. This was a type of fighting that the Turians had not experienced since the Korgan Rebellions. This was a war, and war was what humanity excelled at: living for your country while making the enemy die for theirs.

The Heavy-MAC was fully charged and unleashed its hellish power of 36 megatons of TNT, completely crushing both the shields and ship designated as "Tango-Seven". In a span of less than five minutes, humanity had been able to destroy the two most powerful warships of the Turians in the system.

The rest of the fleet, shocked by the sudden loss, soon began to realize that the gap between two sides had been reduced to a brawl. It was a knife fight, in which the Turians and Humans had a shovel, a dagger and a revolver, but the humans had more experience using them.

The heavy point-defence turrets opened fire first with their 50mm auto cannons. A hail of shots from both ships hit the barrier of a Turian frigate. The sustained fire on the shield quickly drained it, and the poor ship disappeared quickly in a ball of flame. That surprised all three captains, who did not think that Turian frigates were that fragile. Compared to a Terran corvette of the same size, it would take at least three times that firepower to be destroyed.

That was three points for humanity.

Leo figured that the Turians, and their allies, had the edge in maneuverability, shield, and rate of fire. However, humans had more destructive weapons, stronger hull and having no restrictions on the size of ships or numbers. Serina was still processing the Codex given by the Quarian days ago. So far, she had yet to note any other significant weaknesses of the Council that could be exploited.

Nevertheless, with the known data here, it might be enough to fight and win at this time. However, Leo, like many in the military, believed in preparations and contingencies. The one frigate carrying evacuated personnel was being prepped, the other, tasked with "heavy delivery" was being filled with the drones. With the hangar empty, over 30 drones had already been loaded on the ship, and while not a serious threat, each was lightly armed with a pair of 37mm autocannons. These drones could be used to form a wall, absorbing incoming firepower. Moreover, they could be deployed to conduct harassment attacks on enemy frigates, saving some ammunition for his destroyers to deal with enemy cruisers.

Now, there were ten minutes left before both destroyers could be deployed…

Two more Turian cruisers were damaged, but the attackers had used what time they had to redeploy their remaining frigates into task forces of five to seven each, with each one centered around a "cruiser".

Leo and his fellow captains were impressed. The smooth and easiness of the transition suggested that they were facing a professional force. Granted, they were seemed to show little experience was warfare, but they were still trained and professional navy. That note was recorded and sent to Admiral Drescher of the Predator fleet.

TFNSV _Hornet_ and _Falcon_ started to receive considerable damage now, and how each ship had to face five task forces while the rest of the enemy was gunning toward the battle station. The enemy's (acting) commander was probably aiming to take control of the station and neutralise the Heavy-MAC.

Leo sent a heavily encrypted order to the third destroyer, TFNSV _Guardian_ , to depart. Under the full spectrum of electronic warfare from the station, she was able to sneak out quietly.

Meanwhile, the _Hornet_ and _Falcon_ continued to receive more impacts to their hulls. Now, they were almost surrounded by enemy units. From every possible direction a Turian task force was there, unleashing enormous amounts of fire. Round after round wore away the thick armour of the Terran Federation destroyers. _Hornet_ , had already lost half of her point defense systems while _Falcon_ had her MAC damaged. Both were slower and less vigorous in returning fire.

 _Hornet_ was now unable to maintain her rate of fire, allowing enemy frigates to approach her. As a result, her weapons came under even greater firepower, increasing the difficulty of trying to staying alive and do their job. Meanwhile, the MAC on _Falcon_ was seriously damaged, unable to fire at full charge, putting her at a disadvantage while to deal with an enemy cruiser.

However, despite having been crippled, they were still able to cripple three more frigates and destroyed one more.

Four plus three for humans; point-five for the Turians.

The second enemy formation, probably knowing their friends would be able to finish off the two "hoo-man ships", rushed toward the station at what looked to be top speed.

And they had walked right into the sights of TFNSV _Guardian_. The last destroyer had moved in with its Shock Drive and unleashed her fury with two MAC rounds, three missile barrages, each numbering 18 missiles, and opened the bays housing the drones. Two incoming cruisers were stopped dead in their tracks after the MAC bombardment, either dead or crippled, along with three more frigates that began tumbling in space.

This would be a real surprise for these Turians. They thought the humans only had two "dreadnoughts", and Leo briefly wondered what would happen if, or when, they found out that these were only the "light-weight" ships in the arsenal of the Federation. That thought was quickly replaced by the arrival of the drone screen. These were able to distract the enemy laser batteries, buying time for the missiles to reach their targets.

Fifty-four missiles soared through space, almost unmolested, slamming into the shields of multiple ships, finishing off one cruiser and obliterated three more frigates. So far, humanity had claimed eight kills, crippled four more ships with no losses, and they were about to have further success.

The second Turian formation divided again, unknowingly playing into their enemy's plan. Leo smiled savagely, signaling with his hand.

The Turians were already in the effective range for the missile batteries, and he had a few nuclear warheads on board. In his mind, it was the perfect gift to welcome the invaders to Terran Federation.

The heavy MAC shot at an incoming cruiser while the missile barrage of over 50, with only one of them nuclear, spread over its accompanying cruiser. The MAC rounds, destroyed the barrier in the blink of an eye, turning the cruiser into a twisted hulk of metal. The missile barrage and the debris from the destroyed cruiser took down the second cruiser.

Then, the Shiva missile arrived.

The Shiva was, simply speaking, a _Tsar Bomba_ (one of the most powerful thermonuclear weapon ever made) ramped up to level 11. Originally, the _Tsar Bomba_ was detonated in 1961 (at the height of the First Cold War), and yielded power equal to 57 megatons of TNT. That was _after_ she was toned down (100 megatons was considered too much, even for the mentality "bigger is better" of the stereotype Soviet Union). It was done in order to limit the radiation fallout and to keep the bomber crew alive (maybe, the prediction had changed from "dead" to "chance of death").

Both _Tsar Bomba_ and Shiva were thermonuclear weapons, using Uranium-238 or Plutonium as "main ingredient" like other "standard" nuclear weapons. However, they also used isotopes of hydrogen (deuterium and tritium) in order to create helium under the process called "fusion" – the light nucleus combined together to form a heavier nucleus while releasing neutrons as "by products". These neutrons, in turn, bombarded the heavy nucleus of Uranium-238 in the tamper, making the "fission" (heavy nucleus splitting into lighter nucleus) more efficient.

The _Tsar Bomba_ was designed with three stages while the Shiva was made with six, resulting in a yield of 200 megatons of TNT. It was more than sufficient to take down barriers and the ship. This was found out, the hard way, by the crew of three cruisers and ten-odd frigates. The battle was still a success in humanity's favor with eleven ships destroyed and another eighteen more ships neutralised.

Leo looked down at the Situational Board. The losses of the Turian fleet were staggering with two dreadnoughts destroyed, two cruisers were neutralized with four more destroyed outright and another two were without power, and five frigates lost with another sixteen more disabled. Statistically speaking, all dreadnoughts were lost, roughly one third of their cruisers were destroyed or out of commission, and over one fifth of the frigates were put out of action. Meanwhile, all three ships of Terran Federation were still combat capable, despite two of them having degraded combat capabilities.

The enemy, despite considerable these losses, still surged forward. Their commander must have been either brave, or stupid. Steeling himself, Leo ordered another attack. The enemy still had the edge in numbers, and could drown them to drown him in their blood…

Projectiles flew through space as the three destroyers and one battle station of the Terran Federation attracted the enemy's fire, and keeping their last ship, TFNSV _Max Reyter_ , which was carrying evacuated personnel and sensitive data, secret and safe.

The clock was ticking slowly, the strain on every commander grew. As the range closed, Leo had to sacrifice the destructive yield of the Heavy MAC for a faster rate of fire. However, even with lower yield, her power was still rated as a weapon of mass destruction, crippling another two cruisers. Their hulks drifting in space among their comrades' formation, a reminder for the power of the ones called "primitive" less than an hour ago.

TFNSV _Hornet_ , having lost all of her defense turrets, and suffering from reactor damage, decided to charge in and fired her MAC at point-blank range. However, before that, she was able to deal serious damage to two task forces, with eight frigates neutralised. Her last attack just gutted one more cruiser, visibly pushing the Turian ship back from the impact before exploding in a giant ball of fire. The said ball of fire (along with debris, most likely) also affected a few more enemy ships nearby.

The _Falcon_ , having her main guns and thrusters offline, had focused fully on the enemy frigates. The twelve ships drifting around her were a testament to that, showing the fate of two full task forces. She had fired a salvo of missiles at one of the cruisers, attempting to hit it, or at least discourage it from approaching the station. She kept fighting as an impromptu space fortress before being focused by at least twenty ships of various sizes.

 _Guardian_ , being equipped with a full contingent of drones, was able to finish off two cruisers and fifteen frigates. However, it came at the cost of the entire drone unit and a large sections of her hull. Out of those hull breaches, bodies and equipment could be seen flying out - the ship suffering heavy losses of her crew.

Battle Station A-156 was in not much shape. The Heavy-MAC had become the prime target for the enemy mass driver cannon and had been put out of commission. This loss resulted in Leo's command being unable to deliver one shot kills on enemy ships. As the cannon was the primary weapon, the combat ability of the station was seriously decreased. However, her missile salvos were still as deadly and her close-in weapon system was still able to wreak havoc on the enemy's smaller crafts, especially boarding crafts. Leo's brow furrowed at the sight of them, realizing that the Turians were not planning to destroy the station, they were aiming to taking her.

It was an… acceptable change of plan.

Leo touched his pistol, placing his hand on the grip as he contemplated what was about to happen. He could not stop the Turians approaching the station, but he might be able to make them pay for every inch. It was his promise to Captain Fifin after all.

* * *

The point-defence system on the station was highly capable. The enemy had originally deployed more than 50 boarding crafts, but only 25 managed to survive the attack and attached themselves on the station. Two of them were able to find the gate to Dock 3, with some kind of equivalent to breaching charge being used, but had little success apparently.

Major Silva smirked under his helmet, they clearly these aliens did not think that the humans had considered the possibility of enemy boardings during design stage. Short of a big bomb (he was not sure how big), the gate could not be breached. However, it was still easier than breaching through the bulkheads. As far as he was concerned, the bulkheads were indestructible.

These Turian's slow speed in conducting their operation led to the death of one craft, which meant half of the enemy attacking the bay, was lost before entering the docking bay. However, there was still an unknown number of attackers attempting to board the station, and were finally successful at after concentrating their available explosive charges.

A platoon of more than twenty aliens stepped through the breach, oblivious to the ODSTs hiding in darkness and behind cover. The one that looked like their commander barked some orders, hearing that made Silva wonder. Did those Turians not have anything like integrated communication system? He knew that all formations of the Terran Armed forces had them in their hard suits, and wondered if the Turians did as well. If they didn't, it meant that the ODSTs had the edge in communications, and Silva knew better than to underestimate a new enemy.

He remembered the messages between the station command and the Turian admiral, and how they considered humanity "weaklings" and "primitives". Waiting a few more seconds for them to come closer, Silva lined up a shot on the platoon leader. He was the first one to be killed by Major Silva, via an auto grenade launcher. The Turian "platoon leader" disappeared in a cloud of floppy blue smoke, much to the shock of his unit.

Follow the example set by their commander, the ODSTs opened fire on the surprised and exposed Turians. Despite having kinetic barriers, three more Turian soldiers fell, due to concentrated firepower, in less than ten seconds. It was not until this moment that the _crows_ were able to snap out of their daze and fight back. Switching off their night vision, the light was suddenly turned back on, temporarily blinding them.

While they were firing wildly, the well-trained ODSTs began to pick them off. The twenty-man unit of Turian "marines" had suffered five casualties in less than one minute. This was the price of invading humanity's territory, and Major Silva smiled grimly. Now was his chance to fulfill his oath and duty.

For the Motherland.

Taking cover behind a beam, he reloaded his grenade launcher and fired again. This time, he had switched from high explosive rounds to the fragmentation, aiming to maximise the damage dealt against these filthy _xenos_. Some of the barriers flickered brightly under the number of rounds flying, but they did not break. Silva was about to face their full might in a moment. Their daze would only last for so long, and he could tell already that these aliens had a fierce discipline about them.

Glancing at his men, only a small squad of eight men was available. Nine men, including himself, and they had to fight off 15 enemy combatants. Moreover, Serina just told him that a second wave of boarding crafts were inbound. That meant his unit were being outnumbered and outgunned. However, he came from Federation of Eastern Europe Republic, this was not the first time men like him had to face such odds.

Raising the launcher and aiming at the ground in the middle of enemy, formation, he silently whispered, "For Motherland," then, he pulled the trigger.

* * *

All over the station, every breach made by the Turians was met with stiff resistance. Despite having better infantry weapons and equipment, the Turians appeared to not be as experienced facing a determined enemy as humans were. The on board ODSTs used whatever they could to gain an advantage, from fighting in the dark or blinding the birds with strong flashing lights. Some even threw waste fluid packages at them (Serina had decided not to mention that in the status reports).

She had to divide the processing power between four main tasks: assisting Captain Vincent in destroying enemy ship formations, assisting Major Silva and his men in defending the station, fighting off hacking attempts of the Turians (they were quite good for a race was not using Artificial Intelligence) and analysing the Codex given to them by the Quarians.

It was quite straining, but still possible in terms of computing power. After all, functioning at high pressure over a long period of time was what AIs like her were designed for. Serina scowled… The ODST detachment on board had already lost 50 men, roughly one-fifth of their strength, that included killed and wounded.

The Turians had suffered similar losses, however, by having a large number of men and material to send, that gave them an advantage. This did not through into account that the ODSTs could not be everywhere at once. Some enemy boarding formations were wandering near critical areas of the station, and Serena was forced to seal those corridors.

Enemy hackers had also been part of the boarding parties, and recognising their danger, she instructed the ODSTs to consider them as "high value targets" and tagged them on their tactical maps. So far, three hackers had been neutralised thanks to their combined effort, and while they may not be able hack her, it would be easier for her to protect the integrity of the data on the station.

Nevertheless, the fight was still going to be long and difficult. Doing the equivalent to a human sigh, she continued her mission. As someone had already put it, "For Motherland". This was not the time to quit or surrender. She was a 3rd Generation Human Artificial Intelligence, and she was going to make sure that she went out as her friends and comrades.

* * *

 **Location:**  
Turian cruiser _Lancer_  
Zhusanjiao system (contested)  
People's Republic of United China, Terran Federation  
 **  
Time:**  
January 29, 2200 (Terran calendar) - 14th March, 2727 (Galactic Standard)  
0156 (Earth time) - 09:32 (Galactic Standard)

Acting Rear Admiral Vladius Quietus stared at the aliens on the screen. Despite not showing it, he was shocked and worried. These... strange aliens had defended their homeworld with a fanaticism that he had never seen before. Three dreadnaught-class ships, had turned the tide completely. Uplifted or not, those ships were real... monsters. In combination with the behemoth of a space station, nearly a half of the "peacekeeper" fleet had been destroyed so far. _Spirits_ , they even used super nuclear weapons, which were forbidden by the Citadel Council's Treaty of Thessia.

They were almost as bad as the Krogan. Almost... He never believed in the idea that this galaxy could house anything worse than those mercenaries. No, his duty was to try and convince these aliens to surrender and accept the welcoming arms of a larger galactic community. One incident of Krogans was more than enough for the galaxy.

And those two monsters... The two ships named TFNSV _Hornet_ and the other TFNSV _Falcon_ , had already claimed multiple friends of his already. Even though they were being hit from all directions, their thrusters or weapon offline, they were still attempted to damage the fleet. Dear Spirits, they had to have realised that to continue resisting is futile, right? Even when the _Falcon_ was destroyed in a giant ball of flame, the TFNSV _Hornet_ still refused to surrender, or even stop fighting. It took the entire task force's concentrated firepower to beat _that beast_. However, despite being immobilised, it was still able to strike back.

Two hot-head destroyer captains had paid for not knowing so.

Looking at how these aliens acted, he could respect them for their drive to never surrender. It was almost Turian in a way, their dedication to stopping an attack at all costs (whether misguided or not) was a testament to their devotion to duty. That or these beings were completely insane, and Vladius briefly wondered if these... humans were somehow related to the Asari. After all, he could see several similarities between two races, though he always thought that Asari looked more like Turians than anything else. However, he would have the answer for that once the medical reports were filled after these beings surrendered. No one had been able to stand against the might of Turian Hierarchy, not sense the Krogan Rebellions. They would see the light of reason, they had to.

"Humans, this is Acting Rea Admiral Vladius Quietus. You've fought bravely and well. I once again ask for your surrender. I personally give you my word that your people will be treated fairly upon joining the Turian Hierarchy."

However, the humans gave just raised their eyebrows. If his previous experience with the Asari could help, that human was... quite annoyed. It was understandable, they would have realised that victory was impossible by now. The human spoke slowly, and while Vladius did not understand the language, had no choice but to use the translation and subtitle programs made by Vis. He felt as if something else were there. Something... not right.

"First, tell me... Turian. Why did you attack us? Why did you kill those Quarians despite not being fried upon?"

"You did not hear what Admiral Gragatus said? The Quarians initiated First Contact without the presence of an Asari, they uplifted you without permission and they settled on a planet illegally, violating a law set by the Council. On top of that, you activated a dormant Mass Relay. All of those were more than enough for this police action. Surrender Captain, because it is the will of the Citadel Council."

The human just turned his head to one side, hearing some kind of report from his men. Secretly, Vladius hoped he would accept the offer. With that, this captain might be able to convince his superior on the station to capitulate.

What could possibly go wrong?

"Nuts," the human captain replied finally.

 _What?_ The feed was instantly cut off, but not before showing a vicious smile of that Captain. Acting Rear Admiral Vladius Quietus suddenly heard a report from the bridge.

"Sir, I'm detecting a massive increase of gamma radiation off the ship. It's almost off the chart!" the sensor officer reported, a trace of panic in his voice. "Either those barbarians have nuclear weapons on board, or they are using anti-matter energy."

He felt fear creeping in his mind. The insane nuclear weapon earlier had crippled a good portion of the second task force. Now, if they used that again... No. If they had that, it would have been used already, right? They must know the destructive power of nuclear weapons, and there was no other use for them when they had Element Zero already. Hang on, he remembered that one of his men had spoken about this earlier.

There was no presence of Element Zero, or eezo, on those ships...

That was even more unbelievable. Eezo was one of the most abundant and useful elements in the galaxy, and these humans didn't use it in their ships? These humans were likely just uplifted, but he would have thought the Quarians would have shared with them what eezo they had to show how beneficial it could be.

"The dreadnought is moving, sir... Toward the _Sword_ at high speed. They're going to _ram_ it?!"

The last sentence was said in a high voice with a mixture of fear and disbelief. Vladius would be the same if that was him. Ramming was an... unthinkable action. Outright insane. The Krogan were the only ones had attempted ramming another ship during the Krogan Rebellions. They must have...

He could not finish his thought, as he watched the human dreadnought bury its nose into the belly of the cruiser _Sword_ and began pushing her back. Behind her was another cruiser, the _Adamant_. The speed of the _Hornet_ continued to increase along with the amount of gamma radiation. The _Adamant_ , unable to engage her FTL drive in time, was hit by the hull of the _Sword_. The three ships had been stacked together in a giant heap of metal.

Then, in a bright and brilliant flash, the human ship blew itself up in a giant nuclear explosion. Emanating out in a ring and the radiation overloading the sensors, rendering them ineffective. The sight before them pushed the Turians into complete shock.

In only a few hours, they had been in shock and fear. They had seen two dreadnoughts brawl with a flotilla of six ships. Those ships, carrying an insane amount of armour, destroyed a cruiser, and even a battleship, with a weapon in just one shot. They witnessed, in amazement and fear, swarms of missiles overwhelm their GUARDIAN defense systems. They were shot at by super nuclear weapons, and now, they just lost two ships due to ramming, for the first time since the Krogan Rebellions.

Vladius sunk on his chair, grunting and cursing his luck. At least, for him, nothing could possibly make it worse...

Then, he received reports from the second detachment. A third dreadnought and its blasted drones were able to destroy a significant portion of the boarding crafts before they reached the station. That monster had been taken out, but it had resulting in high (if not out-right crippling) losses for the detachment. However, now they had taken care of the defenses and were moving in, either for boarding or providing support.

The marines on the station had advanced slowly under heavy resistance from the defenders. However, it appeared that they were on the verge of securing the station. Critical areas, including the bridge and engineering, were under siege and the defenders had already begun to buckle. Both sections were expected to be taken in fifteen to twenty minutes minutes. That was good news. There were just over 800 marines alive on the station now, and taking control of it should be much easier.

Vladius sighed. Taking the station and dealing with the human fleet was the most difficult thing he had to deal with in his career. He at least hoped that the worst was over, and that the humnad would realize that with them holding position in orbit, there was little chance of them effectively resisting.

However, he did not know about two highly _crucial_ pieces of information in the system. One, a few strange and metallic-looking discs were drifting toward his ship, and second, on the station's bridge, two keys were being turned with a deep sigh.

There was also the _Predator_ fleet, on a 24 hour stand-by and making their final preparations. Weapons were being loaded, maintenance conducted, and personnel readied. If the Turian Hierarchy wanted a war, then the Terran Federation would be happy to oblige them.

* * *

President Kirk read the report, and as he did, his anger grew. Those bastards never even bothered to ask questions! They just came in shooting, and as a result, hundreds of thousands of people were stuck in the system. While not all of them were civilians, but having people die under his watch was never an easy experience. He had already given new orders to Admiral Drescher: Do whatever it took to protect the sovereign territory of the Terran Federation.

He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. He had learned that it was never good to make decisions while angry, especially when you were President of the Terran Federation. There were plenty of examples throughout human history where cooler heads could have prevented one disaster or another from happening.

The Secretary of Defense had already told him what was likely to happen: The Turians, after replacing their losses, would start to land troops on Shanxi and begin securing the Zhusanjiao System. Admiral Drescher was right, and the risk of the second Mass Relay in the system was too high, but he couldn't abandon men and women to their fate. So it had been decided that the Federation would give the Turians 24 hours to leave the system before declaring war, and 48 hours before sending in with the _Predator_ fleet.

As usual, the Director of the Institution of Special Intelligence Operations had already suggested some... unusual operations. Some were crazy enough that they might actually work, and preparations were being made. However, he still going to have to wait another 20 hours before any of those plans could be implemented.

For now, he was letting the rumours (which were correct, strangely enough) circulate among the population. He was readying a statement that would explain everything that was happening at a press conference, which he was hoping to take place before the declaration of war. He would need the people's support very soon. After all, nothing could be done for Motherland without a common cause.

* * *

 **Word count: 5730 words. Well, that was better than I thought.**

 **Read and review guys, constructive criticism is welcomed.**

* * *

 **Last update on 25 January 2017. Thanks CPT for his wonderful support on my story**


	9. Chapter 8 - Edited

**New chapter guys. Thanks for your support so far. This is my first time writing such a long story in my second language, mistakes and doubts are understandable. However, your support has helped me to overcome them :))**

 **Oh, and I just got to know a cute female writers. I was able to convince her to write a shared story with me. It was not in English or posted in this website, but writing new story was not my main objective - if you catch my meaning. I hope I can earn her trust and love.**

* * *

 **Pan302: Thanks mate. This chapter here would initiate some ground combat (seen more in the next chapter)**

 **OBSERVER01: In this chapter, you'd see even more _welcome gifts_. We humans are... polite and professional, it would be prudent not to show the _guests_ our hospitality and love right?**

 **deitarionSSokolow: In my imagination, the terrorist would be hunted down so seriously that they retreat to the wild. However, they would still be spotted and killed via bombing. However, thanks for your input from turning enemy into friend/ally. It makes me having some ideas for the Turians and Humans relationship**

* * *

 **Now, enjoy the new chapter**

* * *

 **'The breach on Shanxi' - Day 1**

 **Location:**  
Command bunker – 100 meters underground  
Wild primitive jungle  
North-eastern hemisphere  
Planet Shanxi  
Zhusanjiao system  
People's Repulic of United China, Terran Federation

 **Time:**  
January 29, 2200 (Terran calendar)  
13:13 (Earth time)

The Turian fleet had been gutted heavily even before reaching Shanxi's orbit. Thirty-nine of the ninety frigates were neutralized, fifteen of the twenty-five cruisers were lost, and both of their dreadnoughts were destroyed. Taking into the account the size of the original flotilla, the _crows_ had already lost a half of their space force before even attaining orbit over Shanxi. Saying they were limping to the planet was not really stretching the facts.

However, despite taking tremendous losses, they still broadcasted their message, making Lieutenant General Richard Williams judge them as either stupid or arrogant. Demanding his surrender _and_ revealing their landing zone in the same time? Moreover, they just took orbit and then did nothing while waiting for "peacekeepers" (the replacement, at least, the original ones were lost on the space station) to arrive. He had seen many stupid mistakes while in training before, but this was the first time he had seen this kind of mistake.

He would exploit this to the fullest. Using the past thirteen hours, he had broken down all three regiments into battalions to maximise their mobility. The Marine battalions had, on average, more transporters and gunships. They would act as daggers, both to strike at the flank of the enemy and to reinforce the line. Meanwhile, the Army units, having more artillery and light armoured vehicles, would be the heavy hitters, used in ambushes and discouraging attacks on the Turians.

Moreover, he had been successful in hiding most of his armored units. With the enemy now in orbit it was paramount that everything be kept hidden for as long as possible. Do try anything now would be suicide. The fighter pilots that had been on the planet at the time of the attack would be a different story. Many of them would be sent out and be killed fighting back the first wave. It was not a mission that he could order them to do, and asked for only volunteers. He was surprised that almost all of them had, and had to turn some of them down as a reserve force. Their deployment of the Air Force was critical here. _May God watch over their souls_.

The civilians and the Quarians who had been on the surface were evacuated to the bunkers along with the personnel from the battle station who had left. The ones were trained as Federation Guardsmen were federalized and issued weapons. Their assignments were to protect the bunkers and provide internal security if not. This helped to free up some personnel for frontline combat.

Moreover, the garrison was also reinforced with some independent units. One company's worth of officer cadets, four platoons of private security and two RAINBOW squads were present when he called for assistance. As a given, he had deployed some of them at minor choke points while the rest were placed in reserve.

The first morning, nothing happened, but to the anxiousness of the troops on the ground. Why the Turians did not bombard the planet was anyone's guess, but Richard knew better than to question fate. He used what time he could to best prepare the defenses and hope for the best to come. His subordinates were informed of the plan. They had to hold for at least four days before reinforcements could arrive.

Four days… he hoped that he would have enough supplies and equipment to hold the Turians back until then.

Now, it would be the time to test his men. Turian reinforcements had arrived, and they were deploying the ground troops to seize the spaceport. They were expecting a bloody battle, judging by the number of escorts on radar. Which was why Richard had decided to do the reverse, and give them the spaceport.

Of course, he left some... mementos behind as a matter of being courteous.

The enemy fighter craft swooped down and began strafing runs on empty landing strips. There was no one there, but it seemed that enemy believed that he had hidden his troops there for an ambush and they decided to waste their ammunition. Good, that would put some strain on their logistics… Probably… maybe… but from what he had told about "mass effect" weapons, they could be considered as having a limitless supply of ammunition. However, the missiles were not.

The appearance of those fighters made him wonder. They did not follow the same design philosophy as humans - either a bird-like shape for aerial combat or the unholy ugliness for space fighting. Meanwhile, the Turian fighters seemed capable of fight in both atmosphere and space, though whether they could entering or escaping the atmosphere and still be combat-capable was another question. The fuselage looked like a curved piece of metal with two "legs" (or "small wings") pointing down and backwards from the belly. Looking at the image, Richard briefly wondered how _it_ could fly, but he decided to leave the question for the professionals back home. Here, he was simply a grunt doing his job.

Meanwhile, the landing craft of the Turians were still as blocky and ugly as the ones made by humans. Rectangular shaped and probably well-armoured with a decent speed, they flew down to the planet at an... acceptable speed. Not too slow nor too fast, but it did not matter, they would see their ends soon enough.

For the next twenty minutes, the fighters conducted attacks on structures that could house anti-air weaponry, but most simply provided overwatch of the spaceport. The General expected it to be the intended LZ of the troops, and luckily, it was still well-within the range of acceptable locations. It looked like he was correct, that the Turians probably wanted to seize the spaceport in order to use it for as a command post and an onloading and offloading point. It was too important as a location for the Turians to keep for too long, and he could not keep it without sacrificing so many men. Even if he did attempt to hold it, the chance for success were still very slim. Therefore... he had a contingency plan for them.

The AI, named Paris, attached to the colony was a second-generation, administrative variant. It was another way to say he was the "emotionless" variant, sacrificing emotions for the sake of safety and efficiency of the planet. While working with a cold and strict personality was not something he enjoyed, General Williams could not deny the AI's capabilities. As soon as he finished his request, a live camera feed from the spaceport was shown. Many of these camera s have different functions, ranging from zooming to switching to thermal or night visions. Now, he was watching the feed from a patch of land near the west gate of the compound. There were ten craft landing there. Each ship was roughly 25 meters in length, 8 meters at beam and roughly 4 meters in height. They appeared in a very box-liked shape... Something told him that these Turians still shared certain ideas about efficiency and economy of war.

These craft, after a gentle landing, slowly opened their ramp doors. While the ramp was still being slowly lowered. After a few moments, the attackers stepped off the ships, and for the first time, Richard had a clear view of what he had to fight against. While wearing no (visible) helmets, they had similar-looking armours to their human counterparts. A thick breastplate covered part of the neck and the shoulders, and the arms and legs were protected by some sheets of metal-looking substance. However, while camouflage patterns were printed on human armours, either for the jungle, the urban or the desert environment, the Turians only a dull grey colour. To be honest, Williams thought that black would be a better option, as proven by the notorious ODSTs.

However, despite their appearance, they were quite… professional. General Williams had to credit them for that. Leaving the transport with weapons ready, they scanned the area for hostiles, and upon seeing none, the men in the front quickly moved behind cover, ready to cover the advance of the ones behind them. They began "leapfrogging" with a group moving forward behind cover, while another moved past them. This process was repeated, and it really impressed him. Nearly thirty men from each ship were able to reach some form of cover.

Still, he watched closely. The enemy spearheads started to advance while additional contacts, with same signal as the landing craft, were detected entering atmosphere. Good, he was waiting for that second wave. Now, he had to wait, a few more minutes and he could crush them.

Several officers were watching and reporting different events as they developed. The fighter group was still circling over the spaceport, ready to pounce any sign of resistance. The first wave of Turian "marines", armed with a mixture of heavy and light weaponry and armoured suits, moved into the compound carefully. However, the Turians did not know that control of the spaceport was still in human hands. Richard had ordered certain doors to be secured while others were left deliberately open. As expected, the Turians were still moving around in the compound, not knowing that they had been tricked for the last half an hour.

The second wave of Turians began their touchdown sequence, and were only a few meters in the air. So far, so good... He signaled his men, and they nodded grimly in response. One man hit a small button on a datapad.

Suddenly, all signals coming from the spaceport, from camera feed to radio signals, were lost immediately. The screen in the control room quickly shifted to a further set cameras, showing enemy fighters fleeing away from the scene. _Good thinking_.

A chain of three thermobaric bombs, the equivalent to 10 tons of TNT each, caused them some serious trouble. Setting them up next to highly volatile fuel tanks with broken valves resulted in some... serious casualties. Nothing was better than the smell of smoke and napalm in the morning... unless it was coffee.

Paris ran some diagnostic programs and deduced that the blast radius was up to 500 meters. Losses of enemy force were estimated at 1500, equivalent to a brigade. Richard grimaced, if he were the enemy commander, he would be cursing by now. What a pity... to losing so many men before even meeting the enemy would be a terrible experience. Richard had no idea what to pray for: for the enemy commander to be smart enough and retreat, or stupid enough and get bogged down here.

The fighters on the sky began circling the area searching furious for what had caused the attack, showing either the stupidity, or the stubbornness, of the enemy commander. Fine by him, General Williams smirked. He sent an order to launch four squadrons of drone fighters, 48 units, to deal with the surviving fighters. He knew that these drones would be slaughtered, but they were meant to be expendable when necessary. Lightly armed and cheaper to build than man craft, the only way for them to achieve victory was to overwhelm the enemy in sheer number.

And fort-eight drones with a hailstorm of 37mm rounds were probably enough to be called "numerical superiority".

The drones flew in, virtually undetected by the enemy thanks to their low altitude, urban environment, (relatively) low radar cross-section area and painted scheme. They approached the unsuspecting Turian fighters and let loose a barrage of fire. There were roughly a dozen of those strangely shaped fighters that had managed to survive the explosion, and each was chased down by four drones.

Controlled by a full-fledged AI and putting out a serious amount of firepower, the incoming fire quickly overcame the enemy force. One disappeared in a ball of blue fire, two more fell to the ground with a trail of smoke, into a part of the jungle, whose area of responsibility belong to 674th Infantry Company, originated from PAC (God help those two pilots if they survived). One fighter, while not hit, crashed to the ground due to panicking, and while the pilot managed to survive, after getting out of the plane, was promptly finished by a drone strafing run.

The remaining eight, however, were able to pull up and fight back. However, being outnumbered, they were soon overwhelmed. Smoke was quickly seen coming out of them. His Air Force detachment reported that they expected to finish those Turian fighters in roughly five minutes.

Richard had bigger things to worry about at this time, and was trying to remain calm. All the fighting so far had just been small, and the real fight was still ahead. He looked at the planetary display. The enemy ships in orbit consisted of over twenty ships that would be classified as heavy destroyers, while they were classified as cruisers by the _crows_. These were also the ones that were serving as troop transports with about twenty more dedicated to combat. The smaller crafts, which the Turians classified as frigates, seemed to be doing nothing at the moment, but they might be able to enter atmosphere and wreak havoc. He needed to work on a contingency plan for that soon, just in case the feed from the prowlers was lost.

Being prepared for any possible outcome, was a lesson from his military training that he had been drilled into learning, but to be honest, he could not think of anything else he could do. Everything was where it was supposed to be and preparations had been made. The only thing he could do now, was wait and see. 

* * *

**Location:**  
Command bunker – 100 meters underground  
Jungle in North-eastern hemisphere  
Planet Shanxi  
Zhusanjiao System  
People's Republic of United China, Terran Federation

 **Time:**  
January 29, 2200 (Terran calendar)  
1502 (Earth time)

The enemy commander was good, seeing that his fighters were unable to deal with the "puny humans", and had sent the _frigates_ in, aiming to bulldoze over the (non-existent) defenders around the remains of the spaceport. Five _frigates_ were coming down at a very high speed, what could be considered borderline dangerous. Either they had really good inertial dampers, or they were outright insane. He would say that they were almost as insane as the ODSTs. However, those Turians were landing in a firestorm while the Helljumpers _were_ the firestorm.

The shear amount of firepower from those five ships were enough to destroy the remaining drones. Their laser defense system was quite good, cutting down the drones like they were nothing. The number of drones dropped quickly, from forty-eight, to just over thirty, then a dozen, then none. In the meantime, they were just able to take down two more fighters and cause cosmetic damage to the ships.

Those drones were able to slam into the enemy ships virtually unopposed. It was not known if it was because their barriers were down or something else, but it was something worth to noted down. Later, if those ships were still planet-bound, he could sent his fighters there to try and finish them off. They had a full inventory of anti-ship missiles given reinforcements after First Contact with the Quarians. While it was good they never had to use them against the Quarians, using them to blast of the f***ers aiming to enslaving you was something he would do.

However, he prefer having those ships split up into single units. The combined defence system of five ships might be too much to handle, not to mention their fighter escorts. He would have to bide his time, and as soon as there was a single frigate by itself, it would be dead under the combined firepower of the Air Force and anti-air missiles units.

With the spaceport destroyed, he was unable to get a live feed from there anymore. So, he was having to rely on scout drones and weather satellites. From what was observed, it appeared that those frigates were also able to carrying ground forces. It was not know the exact number, but the estimate was around fifty each with equipment. Some of that equipment that was observed by the drones could be considered heavy, like rocket launchers and what appeared to be heavy machine guns. However, his scout drones reported no mortar or light artillery presented. As least before they were shot down by Turian fighters.

The weather satellites, while not able to send detailed information of what was happening across the planet, it was able to send them enough information for them to have a general knowledge of the situation. However, those flying saucepans were easily detected and were easily destroyed after being targeted by the enemy cruisers. They were lost thirty minutes after the deployment of those frigates. An acceptable loss, and Richard did not expect them to survive after one hour mark had passed.

Despite the loss of weather satellites, the signals from the prowler was still able to reach his bunker. Granted, it was not updated in real time but every twenty to thirty minutes. However, it was still enough to maintain the reliability of the tactical overview of the planet, helping him in drawing up new tactics to try and keep this rock in human hands.

Still, he had no idea how those spooks were able to send him new data, but, they were spooks after all. It was their job, and his job to act on their information. With the reputation of Institute, he thought that it was better not to know how they managed to send it.

The enemy was securing their landing zone, also known as the "spaceport which was blown up sky high two hours ago, claiming a crap ton of aliens". His recon units were still moving into the area, and were expected to arrive there in fifteen minutes, in order to get a clear view of the situation. Richard knew that he could not keep enemy off the planet, but he might be able to contain it. They coule open a new front somewhere else on the planet, he could hopefully tie down some of their assets and bleed them a bit further.

He waited, and then, a few beeping sounds were heard, his recons had arrived.

Looking at the screen, he saw live feed coming from the helmets of the soldiers. He saw a large patch of burnt grass, and enemy fighters circling on the sky. There were enemy troops walking around with some kind of prefabricated housing parts on their hands.

Then he saw some shiny Turians walking around and barking orders in board daylight.

Seriously? Did they have no fear of snipers, or were they just plain dumb? It did not matter, they were tempting targets for his recon units.

However, these Turians had kinetic barriers, which meant that the first round was guaranteed to be stopped. However, no one could confirm if an anti-material round at the size of 14.5x114mm could be stopped. This was something that needed to be known, but he was unsure if it was right to risk his men's safety for something like this. After thinking for several seconds, he came to a decision and decided that he must find this out. Speaking slowly into the microphone, he gave his first order.

"Archer team, try to target enemy officers. Focus fire on a single target first. We need to figure out how much of those shields can hold against our rounds. Over"

A single affirmative _click_ answered his order. The holo map made by following some kind of video game ( _Modern Warfare_ franchise, he believed) shown one red dot brighter and bigger than anything else. The feed from the helmet camera of a spotter showed the target painted in a light red outline.

Then, three soft voices reported that three shots were fired, and all of them found their mark. The first one made the Turian's barrier "flared up" in a blue aura, the second pierced through it and turned the unlucky (and stupid) officer into a blue fountain. The third one flew right to that misty cloud and hit another trooper right behind him. That soldier, being unprepared and probably using malfunctioned equipment, was punished by and turned into something equally nasty to this commander.

A report from each spotter confirmed the death of two unlucky birds - especially the second one.

Richard scratched his chin. He now knew two things from this engagement. One, the kinetic barrier could be depleted with an anti-material round of 14.5x114mm caliber, High Velocity - High Explosive variant. Smaller calibers may have the same effect but it may need a higher number, though it remained unconfirmed. Two, the Turian were just as frail as humans, especially when they were not covered in armour.

It still presented some problems though. The anti-material rifles were quite rare among his men, and that meant that his regular troops could have a rough time if those shields could hold against a barrage of fire.

It was worrisome, but Richard decided to divulge himself in the small comfort seeing the Turians panic, after recovering from their shock. Seeing their commander become a blue mist would be quite... unnerving... From what he had observed, these Turians were well disciplined, but they seemed to lack experience in proper warfare. Instead of standing around in shock, they should have dived for the ground and called in artillery or the big guns on those frigates. If these Turians were the standard or regulars, he may won this round, but he knew that at the fighting progressed, they would probably adapt to the situation, and then things would become far more difficult.

Smiling grimly, he spoke to the recon units

"Archer Team, hold your fire, and wait for targets of opportunity. Prioritise enemy officers and NCOs if you can identify them. After that, focus on heavy weapons teams, and tech specialists. If spotted, retreat immediately. You are more useful alive than death. Understood? Over."

A few confirmations were heard and Richard looked at the camera feed. The Turians were now hiding behind the prefabricated buildings or shooting wildly into the air. Some tough-looking Turians were screaming at the panicked out ones, and it took them a few minutes to regain control and calm them down. Some had learned quickly, and were giving orders from behind cover, but others were not. Their appearance and actions provided the recon units with information on how the chain-of-command worked for these Turians.

The "grunts" were probably the easiest to identify. They had a very plain-looking armoured suits with no markings. The "sergeants" still wore the same grey suits, but had some gold lining on their shoulder pads or on chests plates. Some had up to five strips of gold in total. The "officers" meanwhile was a different story. They had more colourful armours, usually in red and blue, with the former possibly indicating a higher rank. They were probably equal too low to mid-grade officers in Terran Armed forces hierarchy.

And the dead officer was noted to be wearing a blue suit when he was shot. A blue armour suit with what appeared to be trinkets (or medals) on the chest.

All of this intelligence was passed to units across the planet to inform them which target was more "tempting". If they were able to cripple the enemy's chain-of-command, it would make holding back the invading army easier. However, there was a chance of some determined group soldiers holding off the attacks, just like the old Soviets Red Army in Brest Fortress (Byelorussian SSR, 1941) or the old Japanese Self-Defence Force in Hokkaido (Japan, 2058). He knew that these aliens were disciplined, and he just hoped that they would be disciplined enough to not reach that madness. He said a silent prayer that reinforcements would arrive in time.

He looked at the screen and considered the situation. The Turians were boxed in and around the ruins of the spaceport. The breach was contained, for now. 

* * *

**Location:**  
Turian Cruiser _Fist of Thunder_  
Orbiting Shanxi  
Zhusanjiao System (Occupied)  
People's Repulic of United China, Terran Federation (Contested)

 **Time:**  
January 29, 2200 (Terran calendar) - March 14, 2727 (Galactic calendar)  
1530 (Earth time) - 2306 (Galactic calendar)

Turian General Brutus Oriendas read the report in both shock and anger. Those primitive humans dared to resist the might of Turian Hierarchy! They inflicted tremendous losses to his legion. Five thousand strong men losing a thousand in the blink of an eye. Those... barbarians... primitives... they... they blew up the only spaceport on their homeworld, just to kill 1000 men of his. A spaceport was a highly expensive piece of infrastructure and could take few years to build. However, those humans... just blew it up. It was almost Turian-like, to deny an enemy the chance to use the facility. However, despite their tactical knowledge, these humans were still primitives who killed many of his men...

Yes, he trained, ate and slept with those 1000 men, and their death weighed heavily in his heart, but he knew that he could replace the men and resources lost. He had the might of the Turian Hierarchy behind him, while the humans had only a single world. It was cold and brutal, but that was the realities that a general dealt with on a daily basis. Without them being cold and calculating, they would not be fit to lead their men to victory.

The General wondered about these humans. They were ready to blow up their one and only spaceport, probably their most important compound, only to kill a fraction of the invaders... Only the Krogan during their Rebellion had been crazy enough to have surpassed them. They would have destroyed an entire city at least... As such, these humans would require a strong, firm, yet fair, hand from the Hierarchy to guide them into the light of the greater galactic community. Clearly, the Hierarchy had much more to offer than what the _suit rats_ could give.

Eezo generators, orbital elevators, omni-tools, omni-gel and a wealth of knowledge and culture. Everything those _beggars_ and _thieves_ had, his proud nation had more and of a higher quality. He just had to stop their futile and insane efforts, and then they would have to see reason. Right, that was the overall plan. He stood up and watched the planetary map on his omni-tool. If he showed them the full might of the Hierarchy, they would stop, especially when they realised victory was impossible, but how could he do that? It would have to be a show of force so shocking that they would have to surrender to spare the times of those they were trying to protect. A strategic victory, but the target must still be important enough...

He could take their capital!

Yes, if he gathered his troops and managed to take their capital city, and take it with minimal losses while inflicting heavy casualties on the defenders, it would serve a harsh blow to their morale and the humans would have to capitulate. Yes, it was a sound idea. The rest of his legion, roughly 4000 men, and their support, should be more than enough to seize the city and defend it for a few days against any counter-attack until reinforcements could arrive.

He gathered his staff and they quickly drew up a plan, focusing on a massive and fluid attack with armour and gunship support. After over an hour of consideration and calculation, their plan done. His first order was to send scouts to the city for recon. He wanted to know what he could possibly expact, and he wanted to have a few civilian deaths here as possible. Afterall, they were trying to bring these primitives into the civilized galaxy, and it wouldn't work to kill thousands of civilians while trying to show them a better way.

Brutus watched the screen on the bridge. His scouts, consisting of ten fighters, flew down to the city and began to circle, passing what information and activity they could observe. Their sensors were set to maximum setting, in hopes of collecting anything that could be happening in the city. However, despite showing off themselves for a while, there was very little activity. There would be some biosigns, but most fell under animal life and nothing else. No small autonomous black and green craft, no explosions... which was either good considering their experience with the drones. No one was detected in the city. It was possible that they could have masked themselves from the sensors, but it was considered unlikely since they had only be uplifted relatively recently. It was like a ghost city, and could only mean that the civilians had already been evacuated.

Once again, he had to give these humans credit. They understood limiting civilian casualties. They would become productive members of the Hierarchy after they have been assimilated.

He signaled his men to beginning the first phase of the attack. Two squadrons of heavy gunships were sent to the planet, aiming to raze the city to the ground. Yes, he planned on destroying the capital city would and hope that the blow to their moral would push them to surrendering. This was total war, and these primitives would have to learn that you could not stand up to against the Turian Hierarchy.

They may have caused serious damage to the Navy thanks to their surprises, but with all three dreadnoughts were destroyed now, and had nothing to hit them with. They would have learn that surrender was far more preferable. 

* * *

**Location:**  
Capital city Zhen Zhu ("Pearl")  
Commerce District - Underground bunker 'Vault 111'  
Planet Shanxi  
Zhusanjiao System  
People's Repulic of United China, Terran Federation

 **Time:**  
January 29, 2200 (Terran calendar)  
1630 (Earth time)

Captain Zare'Rozu looked at the young men and women around him. Most of them was just civilians from the city who failed to be evacuated two weeks ago, when the fear of hostilities with the Migrant Fleet was high. However, with friendly contact, the evacuation was halted and many people on this colony volunteered to stay behind, helping to promote friendship between two cultures. The last two weeks were one of the best time Zare had ever had - after the time he blew up those slaver ships, evaded the Turian patrol or had sex with the Asari.

However, as his mother used to say, "All joy must end." She was right. His face (or rather, his suit) had become a well-known entity in the Council space and the Terminus system. Last time he checked, his bounty was priced at twenty thousand credits, and that was by the Batarians, alone. If all bounties were combined, a single bounty hunter could earn up to fifty thousand, plus a life-long discount in certain areas.

Just like those days, the friendly and easy meetings with Humans were lost thanks to the arrival of the Turians. Granted, the relationship between Humans and Quarians had turned slightly sour when they learnt of the Artificial Intelligences in the Terran Federation a small brawl breaking out and only being broken by warning shots fired, but the situation was defused with the help of the Humans themselves in repairing the dying ships of the Fleet.

Yet, for all of their friendship and co-operation, the Turians did not ask, and only shot, as usual. Now, those _crows_ , as the Humans had already called them, were burning and rampaging through their capital city. Such a beautiful city engulfed in fire… He thought his new friends would surrender, and he heard some talk, but those were only a minority. Many were afraid, crying and weeping, others showing despair or sadness, but few talked about surrendering. His bodyguard, when asked, spat on the ground, and just to shut him up. That kept him in silent for the next fifteen minutes.

Then, he spotted a familiar face. It was the young men who had eaten with him on the "food cart" street. He had explained some of the biological differences, in laymen's terms to every one there. Now, he just laid on a bench, looking trying to look relaxed, but the trembles from the bombing run above showed some of his fear. Zare wondered if that young man could explain the situation for him. The situation here was hopeless, the Turians were coming en-masse, and the capital city was under attack. The Humans should surrender soon, if only to reduce the number of deaths and destruction.

He approached the young man, making his bodyguard raise his eyebrows, but they still kept silent.

"Excuse me, can I ask you a question?"

The young man was startled, almost rolling off the bench to the ground but he was able to stop himself. He sat up, adjusting his glasses before looking at Zare with a look of both curiosity and fear. Then, something had probably clicked in the Human's brain, making him realised the Quarian standing there.

"Oh, Captain Rozu! Sorry about that. The bombardment is making me a little anxious. Please, sit down and ask. I'll try my best to answer your question."

After sitting down, Zare hesitantly asked, "Why... why don't you humans... try to... surrender and stop the destruction here?"

He instantly regretted asking. The volume for his speaker volume was still quite loud, while enough for a one-on-one conversation, the room they were in was too enclosed. Many people in the room suddenly glared at him, and he could see anger on many of their faces, some showing more than others.

The young man next to him blinked in surprised. He then took his glasses off, cleaned them with his "T-shirt", put them back on and adjusted with his right middle finger. Zare heard someone whispered something like "contempt style", though he had no idea what that meant.

The young man spoke with somewhat strain voice, "Because we're human, captain. We can't, and won't, surrender without a fight."

"Even if the fight is one-sided and bloody?"

"Yes. Hell, we've fought more wars like that throughout our history. If we surrendered the first time we encountered something difficult, then we could end up even worse than we are now."

Zare felt that there something wrong in that answer. Most being in the galaxy had a different mindset. The Turians one could probably suggest the Krogan, believed in something similar, but for many in the galaxy, unnecessary bloodshed was something that was to be avoided, even if it meant to surrender. The humans preferred to fight on and only surrender after losing virtually everyone. He wondered if after losing they would still employ some kind of Weapons of Mass Destruction, just so that they would inflict the maximum amount of casualties... They were not that crazy, were they?

"Captain, I remember that you have something called a... vid, right?" the young man asked

"Yes."

"Alright, years ago, in one of our vids, there was also a... something like the First Contact War with an alien race, and I can tell you, it was sh**ty for the humans in the vids. They lost virtually all of their military and colonies, at least a century of building, lost in three years. Military losses were... tremendous. All counter-attacks either failed or resulted negligible damage. Soon, we found our enemy moving on our own home star system."

"And then you surrendered?"

"... Not quite. We broadcasted our surrender, but we did not receive any responses of any kind, so we had to assume that they wanted to wipe us out. Then, we did the only thing left."

"Which was...?"

"Completing our duty: making sure that the non-combatants and civilians were evacuated. And it meant to trade blood for time. Fight to delay them. Hit them where they weren't expecting and take as many of them with you if you couldn't get away.

"WHAT?!"

"The humans, I think, knew they were doomed. Where another race would surrender in despair, the humans continued to fight back. They made the Minbari fight for every inch of space. In my life, I have never seen anything like it. They would weep, pray, say goodbye to their loved ones, and then throw themselves without fear or hesitation at the very face of death itself, never surrendering. No one who saw them fighting against the inevitable could help but be moved to tears by their courage. When they ran out of ships, they used guns, when they ran out guns they used knives and sticks and bare hands. They were magnificent. I don't want to die, but when my time comes, I only hope that I die with half as much dignity as I saw in their eyes in the end. They did this for two years and they never ran out of courage but in the end, they ran out of time."

"That... that..."

"That speech was shown at the beginning of the movie, when one of human's friend, of sort, told the tale of the battle to the younglings he found. A good speech to me if you want to know."

If the events of the day had not been able to shut him up, this would be able to. He just stayed silent when some young men nearby fist bumped each other, impressed by the quote extracted from the movie. They may not know the name of that film because it was a "true" classic, made over a century ago. However, the spirit from such quotes had not been lost to the time.

Above their heads, the ground was still rumbling under the bombardment of the Turian gunships. Those flying beasts did not leave a job half done, and they would pour more firepower into a half demolished block, just to make sure those houses were destroyed. Fire and smoke consumed the whole city, and burning houses crumbling under their own weight. Bridges and roads were blasted into pieces of concrete and steel. Trees and bushes were either engulfed in fire or shredded into pieces by the strafing runs. Schools, hospitals and even playing grounds were turned into ashes under indiscriminate attacks.

Lieutenant General Richard Williams looked at the screen with anger boiling inside. Once a fine colony, it was a gleaming beacon of the Frontier Colonies, of the Federation. A centre of tourism, of advancement, of development. Now... now he would want nothing more than seeing the planet return to its former splendor. He wanted to see the towers and spires gleaming white again; to see his men on parade on the holidays of the Federation, not losing their lives on tours of duty. He wanted to see every city of this damn besotted colony return to glory.

But in order to do that, his job would be to wipe out the damn _xeno_ invaders. His troops were ready, his armoured units on stand-by, and his drones ready to launch. Hell, if he was lucky, he could deploy some tanks in the city to wreak havoc on enemy formations, and even his fighter squadrons to lead deep strikes into enemy-held territory.

He would do his best and pray for victory. His artillery, scattered to minimise loss, was ready to strike. The only thing left was the spotter...

Picking up the microphone, he sent his order to every Terran unit on the planet, "This is Overlord. Initiate Action Plan 227. Code Name: "Stalingrad". Activation code: "Not one step back". Out"

The enemy gunships were still destroy within the city while new landing crafts were approaching the scrounged capital. A new spearhead was being formed, and the enemy had made their thrust.

Shanxi was breached.

* * *

 **Word count: 6486 - Impressive.**

 **I wonder if you guys can spot my (shameless) rip off in this chapter**

* * *

 **Last update on 25** **January 2017. I once everyone to raise a toast to the awesome proof-reader: CPT Reynolds**


	10. Chapter 9 - Edited

**Sorry for a long time with no update, I was a bit busy at school. Project report, practical report, practical assignment, re-take (I have one tomorrow)... All kind of jazz like that you know. Engineering school... Well, at least I can earn around 2000 euro/month after graduating (assume I can do that in the first place, haiz...)**

 **On another friendlier note, things are progressing quite well with the girl I like. While she is sometimes "angry" with me (you know, the kind of girly angry when we men/boys said something slightly stupid), things were quite good (compared to my previous times).**

* * *

 **OBSERVER01: Thanks, it was taken from Babylon 5 directly. I just re-watched some scenes in the series recently, I guess I'd put more of them in my next chapters. And that "speech" of Londo Mollari was also considered as an awesome "Humanity f*** yeah!" speech.  
**

 **Grey [guest]: Wow, you mean I write better than the "cannon novel"? Thank you very much. Regarding Soviet March song... Just wait and see, mein kamperede, wait and see ;)**

 **Guest [guest]: Correct, it's Babylon 5 :)**

 **ImpsWithHats: Thanks for your comment. I'm also writing another story with another writer (also the girl I mentioned above). She said that I should use more dialogue in my story (which I kind of did in this chapter). Hope it can improve the story a bit.**

 **Ron the True Fan: Damm straight. Babylon 5 is a great series. Political, but not too savvy, dark, but not too depressing, action-packed, yet still humours. I wonder if I should I watch them again (illegally... I'm not exactly rich... sorry for that)**

 **general-joseph-dickson: Thanks for your comment**

 **: I'm that f***ed up? Crap. I though I have cleaned all of them in the first chapter (note Chapter 2 on Fanfiction) already**

 **OMAC001: What? It's only 4 days of invading (my initial plan) and this is only Day 1. What could possibly go wrong? ;)**

* * *

 **Hmm, it seemed like no one spot the second cameo/inspiration at the end of the last chapter. A hint for you folks: it comes from a video games (an old one).**

 **On another note. Thank you every one for following and favoriting my story. Your action helped me (or forced me, for that matter) to sit tight on my chair and start typing.**

 **Now, folks, I present you the welcoming party, toned-down Stalingrad style.**

* * *

 **'The breach of Shanxi' - Day 1**

 **Location:**  
Children's Square  
Commerce district  
Capital city Zhen Zhu (contested - destroyed)  
Planet Shanxi  
Zhusanjiao system (contested)

 **Time:**  
January 29, 2200 (Terran calendar) - March 15, 2727 (Galactic calendar)  
17:30 (Earth time) - 01:06 (Galactic standard)

Beneficiarii [sergent] Legolas Fintus stood in the landing craft, taking a glance at his _contuberium_ [squad] of eight green recruits. Granted, they liked to think that they were not exactly green as they had already received the training at camps. However, they had yet to draw any blood or take part in any operation, which made them "green" in Legolas's eyes. Compared to them, he had already had a few years of service under his belt, and while it was not exactly front line action, it was still enough for him to have learned a few things. Aim first, then fire, or you would look like an idiot wasting valuable time, and causing your rifle overheating. If you saw a grenade, roll away, or your shield would be drained and you would be dead sooner.

Granted, everyone knew that, but not all of them could actually do that. Especially when that person was Navy personnel.

Glancing at the ceiling of the drop ship, he read the motto of the technician, "If your ship gets blown out off on the sky, it will not be because of a technical malfunction". A shilling, fearful, boast that line... It was correct, but still... If Legolas's memory was correct, the Turian Navy still lost countless men and women in operations. Cheeky bastards.

The ship rocked slightly, signaling that his ship had entered the atmosphere of the planet. Stupid _suit rat_ s! They could have laid low and be quiet, saving him this deployment and giving him some nice and easy relaxing. But no, they uplifted some primitive aliens and all _pyjaks_ like that, forcing his task force, and by extension, him, to intervene and deliver the punishment.

At least it was only the suit rats and their pets. There was no way they could cause any trouble for the overwhelming firepower of the Turian Hierarchy. After all, the High Command had just prove their prowess by demolishing the capital city on this planet, after confirming there was no one inside, of course. Seeing such a devastated scene, the morale of the enemy would have plummeted by now. The only job left for him and his men was probably stepping off the drop ship and begin sweeping the city for any survivors and begin patrolling. The operation was expected to end somewhere between two to four weeks. While it was quite long for his lazy _contuberium_ , it was sufficient, especially when everyone would get some shore leave afterwards.

The shaking of the ship increased tremendously, with red lights flashing in the cabin, over the PA system, everyone was asked to strap in, due to aerial turbulence. However, Legolas paid them no mind. He stood tall and straight, with one hand holding his rifle and the other gripping a handle hanging from the ceiling. Ten minutes of and awful and violent shaking made a couple of his Munifexs [Privates] look like they were about to puke.

 _Let them puke_ , he though. It would be better for them to let it go than holding things in. It was right most of the time, and this... might be one of those times...

The unlucky troopers were able to control themselves and their puke, which Legolas found such an impossible amazing to him. His mother still embarrassed him in front of his younger siblings with the fact that he vomited a lot when he was younger... Ah, nostalgia... Blinking his eyes a few times, he looked at his men again. They all looked half eager and half afraid.

Good, it meant they were not stupid. After all, he was having the same feeling himself.

The ship had stopped shaking (violently) a few seconds ago. Now, the ship was descending through the clouds and approaching the ground. Through the windows, Legolas watched the ruined city outside. It was probably very beautiful once, at least until his commander decided to bomb it to oblivion. Now, there was only rubble there. a few "spikes" remained standing. But those were also covered in soot and smoke, and would probably fall by the end of the day.

What a pity...

Black smoke was rising from the ground, fire was blazing in a corner of the city, some birds were flying away in haste and fear, and that happened before he landed. Well, what were these primitives called again? Hu-mang? Hu-mon... No... human, right, human. These humans, if they wanted to blame the Hierarchy for destroying their capital, they should blame those suit rats instead. After all, those thieves and beggars uplifted their pathetic race without permission in the very first place.

Bah, he would leave the exact details for the brass. He was just a soldier fighting as he was ordered. He had his job to do, and someone else had their own. For now, he wanted to focus on his task: securing this wretched planet.

Taking a deep breath, he spoke out loud

"Men, listen up. Remember your training. Move fast, stay low, aim sharp, then rinse and repeat. Remember that, and you will be home with your loved ones before you even realise it. Understood?"

"Sir, yes sir!"

They were still nervous, but at least they seemed a little less afraid now, which was fine to him. Courage was not the absence of fear, but facing that fear and overcoming it. Those were the words of wisdom spoken by his father. He was a good and brave man... Legolas knew that his dad would not rise above the rank of a Lieutenant due to the lack of connections and favours, but it did not mean his men had no respect for him. _Spirits_ , his old man was considered one of the best commanders, possible the best one, on their planet for five years in a row.

Legolas just wanted to be as great as him...

He gazed out the window of the dropship again, and what he saw surprised him greatly. There were still some buildings and other structures intact, like the statue in the square. It was the statue of some... younglings, or children, probably, of these humans. Some were wearing something like shorts and other were having skirts on them. To be honest, minus the biological appearance, they looked just like some statues of Turian children.

It was strange. Amidst a ruined city, a statue, or a group of statues to be more precise, was still standing. Statues of children playing and having fun. The golden colour glimmering under the sunset looked completely out of place to the rubble around. What a sick joke of fate... His dropship was slowly touching down on the square, just a dozen meters of so from the statue...

KA-BOOM!

"ARGH!"

"HMM!?"

CHUNK!

"Urghhh..."

Legolas suddenly found himself being thrown up into the ceiling and his ship was pushed upward into the air. The unlucky ship fell down, hard, to the ground and rolled over a few times. Inside the bay, Legolas was hit every surface, from the floor to the ceiling, from the left wall to the right. His head banged on the wall and collided with the troopers inside. Finally, the rolling stopped with the dropship's being the ceiling and Legolas laying painfully on the bay's ceiling.

His blurred vision faded away along with the throbbing pain. Grabbing his head and grunting, he tried to stand up and failed miserably. He was shocked and dizzy, his balance off completely. Something was shuffling near him; the banging sound of metal against metal were heard. He even faintly heard the sounds of some kind of explosion, but he had no idea what they were... He was too disoriented to think or act clearly. The last time he felt this kind of headache was when he celebrated his high school graduation and woke up the following day in a jail cell. That was a long story, and probably better saved for another day.

Slowly, his vision returned, but not after what felt like a century. The first thing he felt was something sticky near his eyes... It was blood. Turian blood. Probably his own due to an injury. Turning around, he was planning to rally his men and get out of the dropship when he saw the grim, brutal truth. His men were all dead. Yes, none of them survived the explosion. Their "Killed in Action" reports were flooding his omni-tool. Eight men, eight reports. No, it was ten, the pilot and co-pilot were also killed.

He tried to sit up, what he saw scared him greatly. It was a gruesome scene. All of them were still strapped in their own seats and dripping blood onto the ground. A hole, as big as two fists combined, was seen on the ground (or the "ceiling" in this case). Shrapnel and fragments scattered all around him. Luckily, the hole was closer to the front of the ship than to the rear, where he was standing. Just a few meters off and he would be minced.

A chill ran down his spine when he looked at his dead men closely.

"Spirits..."

The men closest to the hole were... burnt off, somehow. Their faces were blackened, if not outright burnt by... something. Probably by the heat coming in through the hole. The others fared not much better. Some had the back of their heads bloodied and broken due to violent collision with the wall. Some were punctured by the fragments of metal; grey and black pieces buried in their suits. Those men had probably not activated their barriers beforehand, despite being instructed during the mission briefing... If Colonel "Gory" was here, he would say that they died due to their own stupidity... Still, they were his men.

However, the more he watched, the more he baffled.

What... But... _Spirits!_ What happened? His drop ship was certified as "sufficient" before deploying into action. They must… They must have been attacked.

But who in their right mind could attack the armed forces of Turian Hierarchy?

Right, those _suit rats_ and their _pets_.

Grunting, Legolas brought himself up and opened the ramp door. Normally, the ramp would open automatically "downward" toward the ground, but as the ship had already been turned upside down and the power off, he manually opened it, with the hatch going "upward". At least it could provide some cover from incoming firepower from above. Hopefully.

The door had yet to opened fully, but he had already heard the fight going on outside. The chilling sound of the Mass Effect rounds was almost drowned in the deafening thunder of these strange weapons. They he wasn't sure what they were, but they could be kinetic-based, as they had a very distinctive sound and had seen antique ones from Palaven's past still, and heard the clinking sounds on the ship hull. However, these rounds probably would not be as effective as Mass Effect weaponry, as the kinetic barriers would still hold.

Hmpf, well, these primitives just got lucky. They only killed his men because they were unprepared and green. Legolas had to credit them that, but he still had no idea how they blew up his drop ship (or how he actually survived that attack). However, he had no time to think.

When the ramp door had opened up enough, he rushed forward, hiding behind another dropship. Crouching behind and shooting his Munifex in a direction he believed fire was coming from, he nudged another soldier's shoulder, making him turn around, just in time as a few rounds streaking through where his head was a few seconds earlier. As a fair note, his shield had just drained. Talk about being lucky...

"Yes, sir?" the soldier asked.

"Who is the commander here?" Legolas asked, trying to be heard over the sound of gunfire.

"I have no idea, sir! Our _contuberium_ 's _Beneficiarii_ was killed when just stepped off the dropship. We were just firing blindly here, and... where's your squad, sir?"

"...They were dead _Decanus_... Where is the rest of your squad?"

"On the other side of this dropship, sir. They were able to reach a wall that surrounded this square."

"And where is Gamma _Contuberium_?"

" They are all behind your dropship and fighting to hold back the second prong of these humans' attack."

Well, it was not too bad. They were holding their ground against the attack, or the ambush. However, there was one thing bugging Legolas...

"Why, in the spirits' names, aren't these humans being rooted out?"

Sitting tight in one place would not be productive or safe in the long-run. These humans were shooting at the policing force, directly violated Citadel's law. They had to be punished, and a quick check confirmed that his kinetic barrier was on and at full charge. The _Decanus_ next to him also had his gun and barrier recharged.

Good. Time to fight.

Wiring his omni-tool into the shared signal of Gamma _Contuberium_ , he spoke into the microphone

"Gamma _Contuberium_. This is _Beneficiarii_ Fintus, I'm assuming control as the highest ranking available non-commissioned officer in the vicinity. Any objection?"

There was only silence that answered him. The thundering sounds of enemy fire and the clanking sounds of bullets hitting the wall were still present along with the streaking sound of the Turian guns. A battle was still raging, forcing him to take matters into his own hands quickly. After three seconds and no one voicing their oppositions, he became their commander from this moment on.

"Heavy weapons: suppressive fire. The rest cover him. On my mark... Mark."

The sound of friendly gun fire suddenly flared up, quickly drowning out the human firepower raining on his position. Going around the dropship, he rushed toward a half-blown concrete wall surrounding the square. Taking a peak to observe any enemy positions, he was surprised. Instead of a reinforced bunker (or anything like that), everything he saw was just plain rubble. Grey rocks and scorched debris were all around. Where, in the spirits' names, were those humans hiding?

Eyes following the blue darts of light flying through the air, he noticed a specific position was being hammered by the heavy weaponry. It was a window on the second floor, belonging to a demolished building. Assuming the heavy weapon expert was aiming correctly (which he hoped), Legolas had no idea about which he should found amazing: the fact that these humans were able to camouflage their position expertly, or the fact that they were fighting from inside a ruined and half-demolished position, totally going against Turian combat doctrine.

It did not really matter. They were hostile; therefore, they must be dealt with. However, he only had a general idea where the enemy was staying, and none on who could be in there. They were somewhere in that rubble, but where exactly? No, finding and flushing them out would be too costly, not to mention that they were pinned down here. He needed some kind of fast and hard solution. Coincidentally, he knew the answer. A squadron of fighters happened to be near here - of course, the fact their leader was his old friend was just a happenstance.

"This is Gamma _Contuberium_ calling Sigma Squadron, do you copy? Over."

A few moments of static, then, the voice of his old friend was heard. "This is Sigma Squadron. I hear you loud and clear... Legolas, I though you are in command of Charlie _Contuberium_. Over."

"I was, Ambrosianus, I was..."

"... Understood. Let me guess, you need fire support?"

"Affirmative Sigma. The rubble is being marked on your tactical map right now. They were pinning us hard and well-camouflaged. Requesting air strike."

"Copy that Gamma. Inbound time: two minutes."

"Roger, two minutes."

Legolas let out a relief sigh. While some would probably call him a coward, fighting against a camouflaged opponent while you were being pinned was not bravery, it was simply stupidity. He could accept the craziness to achieve victory, but he would not agree with the fools wining a battle with a high casualty rate. Gamma _Contuberium_ continued to fire on the rubble, even if the only reason was to convince the enemy into thinking that the Turians would break out on their own. Well, it sucked to be them when Sigma Squadron arrived.

Two minutes of constant bullets trading (and no one was seriously injured, what a relief) had passed and the Sigma Squadron swooped in like a bird of prey, unleashing a hailstorm of bullets and missiles. The sounds of explosion filled the air, temporarily overwhelmed every other sound. Orange flame, once more, engulfed the rubble, reducing it to... more rubble. Whoever had been in there rubble before would surely be dead by now. He was right. There was no more gun shots coming from that direction anymore. The ambush on this side had been neutralised. Good riddance.

The Squadron turned around and ran a strafing run on the other end of the square. From the cheering he heard, the Delta _Contuberium_ was probably being hit hard and was under serious threat. The relief from Sigma Squadron could be seen as divine intervention, saving them from the enemy hostiles. The square was finally secured.

This square was considered as vital because the area in and surrounding it could hold a half of a full strength Cohort of nearly 500 men, plus their support. High Command wanted to use this as a secondary command hub to support the main base, and planning on pushing deeper into the capital city. It was the objective of Charlie, Delta and Gamma _Contuberium_ was to seize and secure this square, which they had done. This would mean possible awards and promotion due to the fact that they were the first landing party here.

Just in time too, he was kind of hoping for a retirement with some nice perks.

Suddenly, two streaks of white smoke appeared from outside his eye sight, moving toward his friend's fighter. What? They were... missiles? What kind of missiles? They were small, possibly carried on shoulder, but what kind of shoulder-carried missile packed enough power to deal with a Turian fighter? The answer came instantly: the ones he was watching.

His friend's fighter barely had enough time to notice the incoming threats, let alone dodge, and was destroyed in a ball of flame. The other pilots were shocked to the core, not making any maneuvers as they normally would. Thanks spirits that those men were able to regain the control of themselves, or today would end with more than one pilot of Sigma Squadron dead.

In anger, the surviving members of the squadron split into two flights, and went toward the origin of those missiles, aiming to avenge their commander. Legolas watched that scene grimly. He had to credit their bravery of whoever fired those, but no matter how much he respected that, they were still his enemy, forcing him to neutralise, capture or kill them. However, the job did not have to be in that precise order.

Unfortunately, the shock of losing his friend was nothing like what we was about to see.

The sky was suddenly filled with bright shining streaks of light. They were orange and yellow... and the fighters were literally torn apart. Originally, the squadron had eight fighters, now, only one survived the onslaught with heavy damage. Black smoke and blue fire was seen flickering out of this fighter. The craft flew toward the direction of the spaceport, hoping to land in friendly territory. However, that hope was for naught as it came crashing down a few moments later.

What?! A full squadron slaughtered by a bunch of primitives? Legolas and his men were shocked into silence. Some even stood up amidst the quiet battlefield, dumbstruck by the carnage they had just witness.

On their right, a few hundred meters away, a glittering light was seen, but went unnoticed by the Turians. Legolas had been seen wearing a red-blue armoured suit with golden bars on his collar. The Turians knew that it was standard issued suit for an officer, but for the men on the other side, he was simply screaming "Shoot me please", and shoot him, they did.

Two rounds, each a .50cal, were fired. Just like the sniper attack at the spaceport, the first round brought the kinetic barriers to half charge and the second finished the unlucky Turian officer. Legolas was shot at his centre of mass and flew completely to one side, further startling his men. He just laid there, on the ground, as shocked as his men.

He could not believe what just happened. A full squadron wiped out, a _contuberium_ was lost even before combat. The enemy focused fire on commanders. Ineffective and outdated weapons were still able to killed men with kinetic barrier. There, with blood oozing out from his lower chest, Legolas whispered quietly, just enough for him alone to hear. "Was it the right thing?"

Then, his world turned black. _Beneficiarii_ Legolas Fintus was officially "Killed in Action". However, he could be considered a lucky man. He had a quick and (relatively) painless death. Moreover, he was killed shortly after a firefight, when the enemy's death was yet to be confirmed. It was much better than what his men would face in a few days.

* * *

 **Location:**  
Central Square  
Administrative District  
Capital City Zhen Zhu (contested)  
Planet Shanxi  
Zhusanjiao System (contested)

 **Time:**  
January 29, 2200 (Terran calendar) - March 15, 2727 (Galactic calendar)  
1755 (Earth time) - 0101 (Galactic standard)

 _Evocati_ [Private First Class] Sisvus Octavilinus ducked in a bomb crater, cursing his terrible luck for the third time in the last ten minutes. Reports were coming in from the second task force. Things seemed to be in a somewhat better shape there than here. He did not know if he should relieved or curse (for the fourth time). Charlie _Contuberium_ 's drop ship was lost due to mines. Spirits, what kind of army was still using mines these days? They were ineffective and easy to be spotted and neutralised. If Sisvus was correct, the Hierarchy had already stopped using them years ago... and these primitives used them as "standard" weapon.

Charlie _Contuberium_ lost a dropship due to mines in that small square, but the mines had already destroyed at least three dropships here. While Alpha, Bravo and Omega were landing, those mines were activated, wiping out the entire task force completely. This forced the commander to send in the second wave, which included him. Looking at the battered and scorched first wave, he almost did not want to fight. However, enemy anti-air fire just ripped apart his dropship, grounding him and his unit effectively.

Those bullets... were real brutes. The enemy had at least three guns in the area. Sisvus had no idea what they were made of, but those rounds were effective against both dropships and troopers. Smoking wreckage and half-destroyed bodies were the proof for that... Oh spirits! They were real monsters! What kind of races was responsible for such savagery? Even the Krogan used the Mass Effect based weapons during their rebellion, which would only leave a clean hole behind. The enemy would still be dead, just much neater when compared to this... massacre.

The burnt grass was now covered with the blue blood of dead Turian soldiers. Debris of destroyed dropships littered the ground, knocking down the trees, or became burning mass graves for the unlucky souls.

All of this happened in less than twenty minutes. Spirits! Command had already checked and said that there was no one in this city before they began this campaign. How could there be any kind of resistance now? What kind of race could fight with this kind of relentlessness in a ruined city? The Krogan came close. From what he had read, they were even worse on Tuchanka and during the Rebellion.

These primitive aliens... Killing them would be probably a favour to the galaxy.

But to do that, Sisvus would have to survive first. However, that would be a major challenge as he could not raise his head due to the blanket of fire overhead. While it was not precisely continuous, it was more than enough to pin everyone down where they were. While Sisvus's kinetic barrier could take a few of those bullets, he was pretty sure that five could drain the shield and the sixth would turn him into a blue fountain. That image alone was more than enough to encourage him sticking close to the ground.

"Hey! Are you alive?"

Sisvus turned to the side to see his _Decanus_ , Brius Calptus, crawling on the ground toward him. Nodding instead of answering, he slightly turned his body to have an easier chat with the leader. Behind Brius were a few more Turian troopers from different units. They probably came together after being shot down by the ambush. Tough luck it was...

Everyone was afraid, losing multiple friends in less than an hour... Life must be harsh for them...

"OK... I think we have enough men now. Listen up. See the two-story building on the right?" He motioned with his head. "There is a hole in the wall. We'll move in and flank these pyjaks, clearing the danger for the next wave. Command just informed me that we will have armoured support for that. So, keep those dropships safe and we'd live and see the night. Questions?"

"How could we move in? The only cover we have now is this bomb crater. Getting out means we have no cover, and I don't want to die yet."

"How many smoke grenades do you have?"

It was decided. The makeshift unit of merely six troopers would throw up a smokescreen, covering their quick advance to the half-demolished buildings. Once inside, they would clear out the enemy. As those heavy weapons were focusing on the outside, hitting them from the rear should be fairly easy as they would not suspect or expect it from the beginning. Hopefully.

Throwing the smoke grenades, the ground in front of the half-destroyed and burning square was quickly covered in a thick layer of smoke. The view of the heavy weapon nest quickly faded away behind the grey-coated air. Six men rushed to one side while their friends were stood up to cover them. Then, hell broke loose, again.

Their friends were cut down, one by one. Some had their arms blown off, while some had their legs cut away. However, some would say they were luckier than the ones got shot in the torso. Those unfortunate soldiers were turned into a blue mist or had a large gaping hole appear. He had no idea how those primitives were still able to fire that accurately. It was either those aliens were highly lucky, or they were equipped with inferred vision. To be honest, Sisvus had no idea which one was worse. However, this was not the time to stop and think. He had to press on and avenge his fallen comrades.

Jumping through the hole on the wall with the make-shift unit, six men moved forward along the hallway. The view inside was not exactly... pleasant. The bombing run earlier had practically destroyed a good portion of the building complex. The section he was walking in now was some kind of a restaurant. He saw tables and chairs around the hall, most of them were already scorched or damage. Only a few left standing and remaining in some degree of cleanness. On the floor, chunks of dark grey debris were scattered, crunching under his boots every time he walked over.

It was quiet... too quiet.

That kind of silence was not a good one, rather, it was something... wrong. Sisvus was never a man of literature, but he still vaguely remembered some "serious" words and that only mentioning them was more than enough to tell that the situation was terrible. It was like the solid organic waste was about to collide with the Rotational Air Circulation Device...

The "restaurant section" ended, leading to a staircase with a beautiful rug (or what left of it) in the middle. The enemy heavy weapon nest was on the balcony of the second floor. That meant climbing the stairs. While it looked pretty far and high up, they could at least faintly hear the sounds of this weapon barking nearby. They were close to it now.

Quickly going up the stairs, someone let out a sigh of relief.

"You know, I think these primitives have already retreated. There should be no one here, and that weapons nest is probably controlled by a VI."

"What makes you say that?"

"So far, no one has attacked us yet."

Sisvus was planning to say something smart to shut that man down before he saw something dropping in front of his eyes: something green-grey and cylindrical shape, with some kinds of holes on the body. Oh, there were _three_ of them.

Huh?

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Three continuous deafening sounds boomed, deafening him to everything but the buzzing sound in his ears (and brain), accompanied with a blinding flash of light that took out his vision. His eyes felt like someone just flash burn them with fire and then pushed a flaming rod into each one of them. While he was still covering his eyes with his hands, Sisvus felt like he was pushed back by a tremendous force. He fell backwards, with his head banging on the staircase a couple times. There was something, or someone, heavy lying on his chest.

He just laid still (he was pretty sure about the part being knocked down) and had no idea what was happening. When he finally found out...he wished he had not. Of the six men who had come inside the building, but only three were alive now, and one was critically injured. Sisvus was stunned, somehow, the kinetic barriers did not keep them alive long enough. Those enemies were able to defeat or break down three fully-charged barriers, and drain at least one more.

How, in the name of the beloved spirits, did that happen?

Speaking of which, where were those humans, or if they were even humans at all? Sisvus had heard tales about Quarian Marines. In public, no self-respecting Turian would praise them, but privately, no smart and experienced soldier would badmouth or insult the Quarian Marines' combat capability. Yes, that had to be right, the Turians were not policing a primitive race uplifted by the Migrant Fleet, they were fighting against the _suit rats_ themselves! That was the only plausible explanation.

On top his chest, something stirred and grunted. Oh, that heavy piece of whatever-it-was was Brius. Guess that meant there were officially two Turians in one piece here now. The third, barely alive, Turian was the same one who said that no one had attacked them. Yet. Heavy emphasis on the word "yet".

" _Decanus_ , are you alright?"

"If you define 'alright' as feeling like having been rolled over by a tank, splashed in the face with an Eezo cloud and staying under an oven... Then, yes, I'm perfectly fine." Brius got to his feet. "Get up _Evocati_. The way is clear now; the enemy had retreated. Check that trooper to see if he can move. If not, stabilise him."

"Yes sir."

Sisvus stood up after Brius had rolled off. Almost dragging himself to the injured soldier, he almost felt pity. That guy was seriously injured. His entire chest was shredded into pieces, just like what a _varren_ would do to a fresh chunk of meat, albeit slightly _messier_. Sensing the gaze of his Beneficiarii, he just turned around and shaked his head sadly. Brius seemed surprise but quickly gave a grim nod. Losing men was regrettable, but such was the basis of war.

Sighing, Sisvus gave the dying soldiers some painkillers at a high dose. The injured Turian suddenly jerked up and gave a weak smile while eyeing a gun nearby. Following his gaze, Sisvus's eyes suddenly darkened. However, it was the dying wish of a brave trooper. Who was he to deny it?

Putting an assault rifle in his comrade's hand, he stood up straight and saluted the brave soldiers. He just received a grim nod and a smirk in return. What was worse was that Sisvus did not even know his name.

The last two Turian soldiers stood up and ran up the stairs. Their eyes darted to both sides, almost wanting not to look back. They buried their sadness and despair simply by being "good soldiers". Sisvus cursed silently. He would have this building blown up to avenge his fallen comrades, one way or another.

There was a beeping sound coming from Brius's omni-tool. It looked like an incoming order or report was coming in. The _Decanus_ skimmed through it before turning to Sisvus without even stopping.

"Alright Evocati. I have a message from Command. The third wave, composing of armoured units and being escorted by a large contingent of fighters, is coming down. They will more than enough to take care of these heavy weapon nests. However, if we could eliminate any of them, it would relief some pressure on our forces in the square. What do you think? Retreat and let the big guns do their job, or push on and avenge our fallen comrades?"

Sisvus gave a predator smile and reply with some bloodlust in his voice.

"Forward, sir. It's what we do best. We press on, we move forward."

"Well said, _Evocati_. Well said."

They moved up, clearing room to room. However, they found nothing. No resistance, no documents and no trace of life. It was almost as if those attackers had vanished after killing four Turians in a flash. The only good news was that they were coming close to their objective. The thundering sound was very clear now, and he was even able to hear some kind of clinking and clanking sounds mixed among that. What could it possibly be?

They still went up, checking every corner with both haste and care to the best of their ability. Finally, they reached a pair of giant doors made from a brown wood, or what looked like brown wood. They were fairly large. Sisvus was sure that each door was as wide as his arms' reach. Regarding the height, he believed that it would be as tall as three Turians standing on top of each other. What made it even more interesting was how it opened. He saw that these humans appreciated classical as well: the doors could be opened by a handle.

A bronze-coloured handle with detailed sculptures on it, no less.

He was reaching for the handle when Brius suddenly grabbed his hand and shaked his head silently. The _Decanus_ simply whispered in his ear one word, "Trap." It was plausible. Those wretched suit rats had tricked him not long ago, and he would not put it past them to doing it again. They could have placed a mine or some other trap of sorts by the door which would activate when he turned the handle. Bad luck then... Brius pulled something off his back. It was a breaching charge. Silently placing it on the wall, the _Decanus_ saw to a viscous smile appeared on Sisvus's face.

"Do what the enemy expect of you in an unexpected way," Brius whispered quietly again, either to himself of for the benefit of this trooper.

Sisvus mused, wondering why he had not thought about that earlier. Probably because he had no breaching charge...

Standing behind the _Decanus_ , he lightly nudged his shoulder, signaling he was ready. A few seconds later, the wall was breached by an explosion, pushing the debris inward. Wasting no time, both Turian troopers rushed in with guns at the ready, to fire at the enemy inside with surprise and sheer volume of fire power. It was a sound tactic, if only there was an enemy to be seen inside the room. None. Not even the one manning the heavy weapon.

Yep, it was the unlucky soldier all over again.

He saw some kind of black turret with four "arms", with two guns on each side. It was one of those heavy weapons. Now, closer, he had the chance to look it over. Firstly, he positive that it was not a Mass Effect based weapon. While it was still a kinetic projectile weapon, it relied on the "old" model of chemical combustion of sort. The Turian Hirerachy had used them for centuries before discovering the Prothean Data cache and turned to the newer and better weapons. The clanking sound he heard earlier were the empty bronze cylinders dropping to the ground.

Yep, they were combustion based weapon. Those... cartridges? He believed it was the right word... Those cartridges were still warm and smoking lightly while rolling on the ground. The air in the room was filled with some kind of burning smell. It was not outright toxic or annoying for him, just... different. He was used to odorless Mass Effect weaponry, so being close to such a primitive weapon was a real experience.

What surprised him the most a switch connected to the heavy weapon nest. What kind of stupidity was this? They left an "on-off switch" for a heavy weapon? Looking down at the switch, Sisvus observed it, just to be sure. It was a black box with a silvery switch on it. At the moment, the switch was on the side of the word with the alien phrase "ON" written next to it. In addition, a red blinking light could also be seen nearby. To be honest, he felt pity for these aliens. These people did not even have omni-tools, but their masters could use them with ease?

Glancing at each other and then shrugging, they stepped forward and scanned the room, just to be sure that it was clear of any surprises. Then, Sisvus moved forward to the wooden table with the black box on it and flip the switch. Instantly, the turret turned silent, or this one at least. Two more heavy-weapon nests in the area were still firing, but this one was deactivated, at least. The clanking sound also stopped and light on the black box "jumped" to the other side of the switch, coloured green.

Letting out a relief sigh, Sisvus turned around, facing his Beneficiarii and said, "Mission acc..."

 _Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!_

His sentence was cut short with a new hailstorm of bullets... blowing _through_ the wall and the smaller door inside. His shield was drained quickly, and he quickly felt something piercing on his armoured suit, and then his chest. Strangely, he did not felt any pain, despite being shot at. Turning his head to the side, he quickly found out that Brius had suffered the same fate. Both Turian troopers were laying on the ground bleeding out.

"Spirits..." Brius whispered quietly before finally laying still.

Sisvus was in a real state of shock. He knew he was just shot at, but he had no idea how that had happened. However, he did not have much time to think or wonder. The small door on the side suddenly opened up with a bang, revealing... a black drone. Grunting, he tried to angling his body in order to see it better, and he quickly wished he did not do that.

That drone was probably based on the same build as the heavy turret outside. However, instead of being a major piece of black metal and carrying four big guns, it was much smaller and only had two smaller arms. However, despite being smaller, that did not mean it was weaker, as proven by his dead _Decanus_ and his injuries. The drone just rolled toward him on its tracks, and bent slightly downward, almost as if looking down on him in pity. Sisvus would love nothing more than grabbing his rifle and blowing that ugly droid's head off. However, he was too injured.

 _What will happen to me_ , Sisvus silently wondered. The "face" of the drone suddenly flared up... No, it was something akin to a screen. On that was the face of an alien. A member of their armed forces if his clothes and headgear were reliable indication. They... The rumour was true, they looked just like a little like the Asari, minus the blue skin and the crests on their head. This universe must have a sense of humour...

The alien spoke, while Sisvus had no idea what he was saying, he quickly understood it thanks to the subtitles on the screen. "Welcome to Shanxi, you motherf***ing b******!"

The drone opened fire again before he had any chance of saying anything. Sisvus became the newest name on the Killed in Action list for the VII Legion that day. He had no idea that the drone had reactivated the heavy-weapon nest, surprising everyone when the third wave arrived. Thinking that the emplacement had been cleared, there was no air strike on that position until it was too late. Later, the third wave would land with bullet holes and scorched marks everywhere. Then, and only then, would the IX Centuria would be able to take control of the Central Square and surrounding blocks. However, they did not know one thing: Sisvus had flipped the switch.

At 1930, Earth Time, the sun was setting over the Central Square, watching and trying to relax, the Turian soldiers in the surrounding area of the square were engulfed in flame again. While loss of Turian Hierarchy was light, the IX Centuria garrison force was effectively cut off from the advance, the X and VII Centuria. They would surrounded by fire for over two hours before the relief could arrive.

Meanwhile, nightmares were striking the Turian force everywhere. The losses of the enemy were mounting, but by midnight, Shanxi was still breached.

* * *

 **Wow, I just check the word count: 7138. Holly mother of Maria. I think this is the first time I write this long.**

 **Please read and review. Constructive criticism is always welcomed.**

 **The next chapter would be about the night battle on Shanxi (still focused on the capital city). I'd come back to our (insane) Mech-operator team and the Quarian crew (or what left of them) as well as our Captain Shepard soon, probably in the following chapter.**

* * *

 **Last edit on 25 January 2017. Kudos for CPT Reynolds**


	11. Chapter 10 - Edited

**Well, let's begin the author's note with something: I f***ed up, again. I failed the retake for Electronics test, meaning that I may have to try it in the next year... Haiz... To be fair, I went from 4.1 to 4.9, an... acceptable improvement, but not enough. I hope that I can see the test tomorrow (mostly to know which mistake should I drink too). On another note, the girl I like suddenly turned "mad" at me and I have no idea why (we were still quite chummy in the last chat)...**

 **Hell...**

* * *

 **This chapter is fairly short, mostly to be a filler between the action-filled evening on the ground and the interrogate (police level) in the next chapter. The surviving members of the Mech-team would face against the SPECTREs duo very soon. I hope it can negate the blood in the last few chapters.**

 **general-joseph-dickson: You spell it wrongly, guerrilla, not gorilla. However, this was not the guerrilla, yet. So far it is only a somewhat urban warfare combat. Though I'd try to ramp it up on Day 3 and 4 (right before the human reinforcement arrives)**

 **islamy96: Really? US Army had plans for _zombies_? First time I heard it**

 **OBESERVER01: And burnt, and shot, and hit, and hacked... You got the idea**

 **Blaze1992: Wow, thanks for your review. I didn't know my story is _that_ good :p For the record, the ME1 events would be greatly altered (no shit) because the humans won't be a part of the Council. I'm half-heartily consider having the Collectors wrecking troubles in 10 years or so, things would go straight from there to ME3. The in-game characters, by then, would be reduced to supporting cast (or turned into someone else in my story). All ideas are welcomed and will be fully credited if used (even if I have the same idea before you say that). You can try the AlternateHistory forum, I'm also writing this story over there**

* * *

 **A bit of note on Turian Hierarchy army structure - borrowed from the Roman army structure:**

 **\- The smallest formation is "Contuberium", equivalent to a "squad" nowadays. This unit has eight "Munifex" (equivalent to a "private"). Depending on certain situation, a "Evocatii" ("veteran soldier", or in my story, "private first class" or "lance corporal") and/or a "Beneficiarii" ("sergeant") can be fielded within the unit.**

 **\- Ten "Contuberium" made up a "Centuria" (a "[heavy] platoon" or a "[light] company"), commanded by a "Centurion" (equivalent to a "lieutenant" or "captain"). Each "Centuria" would have roughly 80 men (or around 90, including the commanders)**

 **\- Six "Centuria" make up a "Cohort" (roughly a "battalion" with nearly 500 men). The most senior Centurion (among six Centuria leaders) would become commanding officer of this Cohort.**

 **\- The "Mechanised Cohort" consists of 15 tanks and 30 other fighting armoured vehicles. This formation is, roughly, equivalent to an Armoured battalion. For every Turian Legion, one Mechanised Cohort was organised. After the Human - Turian war, the concept of forming a full Mechanised Legion is considered.**

 **\- Ten "Cohort" would, together, form a Legion. However, they were also supported with extra supporting Auxiliaries units. Total strength of a Legion is at roughly 6000 men.**

* * *

 **'Silent before the Storm' - Night 1**

 **Location:**  
Office Complex North  
Administration District  
Capital city Zhen Zhu (contested - destroyed)  
Planet Shanxi  
Zhusanjiao system (contested)

 **Time:**  
January 29, 2200 (Terran calendar) - March 15, 2727 (Galactic standard)  
22h05 (Earth time) - 05h41 (Galactic standard)

On the holoscreen, General Brutus Oriendas was fuming at the report he had been given. Taking control of the capital city was... costly, far more than every officer had thought. The full strength of the Third Cohort, with nearly 500 men, had been deployed to seize this "important-looking" position, namely the biggest square and the surrounding office blocks. Seeing the target being ruined, reduced to pile of rubble and no signs of life, the entire command hierarchy had thought that would be an easy fight.

How wrong they were... The soldiers had to trade blood for every inch of ground they took from these aliens. Soldiers died... for nothing... or for too small a gain... Now, littered around the square was roughly one fourth of their total fighting strength. Their bodies and remains, were being taken care off by their living comrades, some of whom were still in shell-shocked. Some of the dead were killed during that... ambush, more were killed during the fight to seize the surrounding area, and even more was lost because of that fire storm.

Under the dark sky, the fire burnt brightly. Their red and orange colours looked like they were promising something sinister and terrible to the invading (or _policing_ ) Turians.

Meanwhile, down on the ground, glancing at the report, the most senior Centurion grimaced. Over 300 Turian soldiers were dead in return for less than 50 human bodies that were found. A six-to-one loss was not something you can scoff at, even when you had men and body bags to spare. However, General Oriendas had neither. Moreover, he was in denial. For the last fifteen minutes, he had constantly reminded every Centurion present that they were fighting against primitives, and that such a loss ratio was unacceptable. The only acceptable outcome was victory, a clean and flawless victory.

Brutus talked in a tirade, not noticing the stress slowly forming on his officers' faces. They were tired, bruised and tattered, most of which was due to the welcoming gifts of the defenders. One of them had even been "promoted" in the field after his commander had been killed. He was young, inexperienced and would probably the first to die the next morning. The most senior Centurion, also the commander of the Third and Forth Cohort in place of his deceased comrade, had to suppress the urge to curse, even if the only reason was because the young (and newly promoted) Centurion looked just like his only son, whom he taught the general dislike toward profanity.

Yes, he had no problem with swearing in the face of his superiors, especially General Oriendas, someone who had risen through the ranks not by merit, but by... connections. The sentiment was shared by many other officers in the Legion. However, said idiot was too well-entrenched in the general's chair, probably waiting for his "term of service" to end so that he could join the political world. Needless to say, his military knowledge was... barely accepted for a Centurion, let alone being a General. That was the reason why the senior Centurion decided to tune out that annoying wining voice and contemplated future actions.

These... humans, while being stubborn and illusive, were highly trained, if not military savvy. In a single day, they inflicted more damage to a Legion than what the filthy Bat... pirates could do in a full month. They burnt two full Cohorts in a furry of flames when realising that keeping the spaceport was impossible. Kinetic barriers for infantry were destroyed shortly before men were... obliterated. That thought scared him greatly. The only weapon capable of doing something equivalent damage, as far as he knew, was the (in)famous Graal Spike Thrower. However, it was Krogan-exclusive (and he had not seen any of them here) and a short-range weapon, yet no sight of shooter had confirmed, simply because they were always _out of sight._

The last line could lead to further complications, either these _suit rats_ and their _pets_ had cloaking technology (very unlikely), or they possessed a long-ranged sniper rifle capable of draining the kinetic barrier in a single shot. Neither of them was good news.

The bad news did not just stop there. Two key positions, both of them were selected as landing and staging areas, had been ambushed. Invasion force suffered heavy losses even before touching the ground. These _primitives_ , somehow, were able to make mines capable of _jumping_ and damaging the dropships at the same time. Moreover, some of them were even able to pierce the floor, killing the troops inside, further increasing the number of the dead. Those that survived were not exactly lucky or better off either. They were pinned down by accurate enemy fire from the surrounding buildings, some of which had already been demolished in the bombing runs. The way these humans were able to defend from a ruin was impressive to say the least, but still a major problem.

The first reports was not exactly encouraging. His men were only able to confirm that there were minimum number of men in the buildings and those heavy weapons were just automated turrets. Despite being uncontrolled, those turrets had already killed nearly 100 men and at take out at least 10 tank-carriers (with various degree of damage) before being silenced. What shocked him the most was the Turians losses when trying to remove the threat. One certain heavy weapon nest was able to repel three flanking maneuvers, claiming at least twenty men while the defenders only left behind five dead of their own. This turret was only silenced after a tank platoon landed.

Yet, it did not go down quietly. It continued inflicting damage on critical equipment of the tanks, and while those tanks were still combat capable, their combat effectiveness was greatly reduced thanks to the loss of the range-finder, laser guidance system, and even the hover system on some. They were only fortunate that there were plenty of spares.

He grunted, noticing the general had already cut the connection and his junior Centurions were all looking around with strange and questioning eyes.

"Spirits, what could possible happen now?! Those spirit-dammed pests killed us in our first wave. They burn our men... and we were blamed for that!? Get down here you idiot! It was _you_ who guaranteed that there should be no resistance in the first place you _pyjak_!"

The younger officers in the (temporary) command office just glanced at each other. They knew that fact too... Ash and soot covered their armours and their faces were unable to hide their tiredness. While the experienced officers were still able to maintain their rigid stance during the tirade of the foolish general, the young replacement officers were not. He just simply collapsed on the ground and breathed heavily under the pitying gaze of his more senior officers.

"Spirits... I lost my commander, my _Contuberium_ as well as a fifth of my Cohort... Wha... What should I do...? And... that... that smell... why... why is it still there...?"

The young Turian just sat there, swallowing in the disgusting air filled with the smell of burnt fresh meat. He had been broken by these... savage primitives. These dammed beasts knew how to fight a foe with superior capabilities. Hit them where they didn't expect, and use the terrain to their advantage. They knew war, almost as well as the Turians did, but they did not know the lengths the Hierarchy would go. After completing this mission, he would probably request a "punishment order" to remind these beasts that such actions against Citadel Council, or the Turian Hierarchy, in general, was simply unacceptable. Ten humans killed for every Turian seemed like a good trade off, and if things got worse, they would increase the number of hostages until they learne or they were no more. However, it was not a pressing matter now. As the Cohort commander, he had more problems to solve than inventing adequate form of discipline for these _hoo-mans_.

His omni-tool suddenly flared up, signaling a request for a vid call. Upon answering it, he saw it was a childhood friend of his, but instead of joining the Army, he became a Navy officer, currently serving as a Executive Officer on a cruiser. Despite some unpleasant words by others, who had not joined the same force, they were still good friends (minus the time they were dead drunk and got locked in a the talk of my-d***-is-bigger-than-yours). The Centurion became worried. His friend was a rigid man, ready to follow order to the letter. Unless something was seriously wrong, he would not contact him without permission.

Such a thing had happened only three times in the past, and one of them was when his friend had thought, mistakenly, to be cheating on his "female friend".

Dismissing his men and returning them to their duties, the old Centurion sat down on the most intact chair in the room and accepted the message. The tired and strained voice of his friend quickly filled the room from the holoscreen.

"My old friend, how have you been? I heard that the person of… questionable intelligence... just chewed you out. Yes?"

"Yeah... He just let out some incoherent and intelligible ramblings, while not realizing we were all hearing nothing."

A soft chuckle was heard, eliciting a small smile over his face. It was true that while his friend was quite an aristocrat, he had more direct manner of speaking. How they were able to maintain their friendship was a mystery to everyone, including themselves.

"Right. That idiot... He may have already bitten off more than he could swallow..."

Something came from his friend's voice that alerted him. It was something... damm, he wished we spent more time paying attention in Literature class back in school. He could not find a single word to describe it... It was something dark, terrible and it was just over the corner. His intuition told him that if he did not listen closely, he would regret soon. Moreover, he had a hunch that it was something against standing protocol, so he listened to what his friend had to say.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you remember the human's space force? The three dreadnoughts and a heavy defense station?"

"I heard about it. A major fight broke out before they send the ground forces in. Those humans were able to wreck a disproportionate amount of losses on the 3rd and 4th Patrol Fleet _and_ the 12th Fleet. They were killed in the process though... What happened?"

"... After the orbit was secured, we were ordered to send out scouts. Standard procedure, mostly for reporting duty. My ship sent out twenty scouting drones while you were being deployed... I just received the report less than thirty minutes ago..."

Something terrible was coming. His friend did not say anything out loud, but his voice seemed to pass it without any spoken words. The elder Centurion could feel a chill going down the back of his neck. It was almost as if Death was watching over with a wicked smile. With a very, very calm voice, he asked his friend

"And?"

"... Buddy... We found no space dock or any space structures, other than the ones that were destroyed."

"What? None? They had nothing else here?"

"None, and that was a bad news, if not very, very bad..."

"How so?"

"Think about it, that idiotic general and the foolish admiral, both of them think that this is the homeworld of some species uplifted by the Quarians. However, we have found no space docks, the planet was sparely inhabited and there was no meaningful trace of Element Zero found in the debris here. All this evidence... It has me thinking that we are attacking some spacefaring race that just got in contact with the Quarians... and they may not use any Element Zero."

"What?!"

"You heard me, they don't use any Element Zero. They might be primitives at first glance... But what kind of primitive race able to stand up against us, the Turians, despite all the odds? Spirits, we're the ones who usually stand up and face overwhelming odds... Buddy, I know this sounds crazy, but we are probably the invaders here. Not onto their homeworld, but one of their colonies. You have seen, and heard, how they fight to protect this planet. What will they do if the news reaches their home?"

A sudden chill went down the spine of both officers. In space, three dreadnoughts were able to kill off over forty ships of all classes, nearly fifteen times in number and probably thirty times in tonnage. Moreover, the fleet had to replace the fleet commander three times in just the first minute of the battle. That brutal efficiency was not something to scoff at. Moreover, they showed more than just combat prowess. Despite being immobilised and the station being out of action, the defenders fought to the death, despite promises of easy and light punishments.

Spirits, the humans even took more men with them when one of their dreadnaughts rammed a couple of cruisers and when the station explosion. Yet, all of that was slightly better than what happened on the ground. At least is was over quickly.

The men could not move under heavy fire, and death came sudden and invisibly. Those deaths were brutal and gruesome, more often than not, and the unlucky soldier would die missing a limb or part of his torso. Moreover, the casualty rate of the Army was not something which could be easily ignored. While the loss of 300 men was enough to render a Cohort ineffective, the loss of commanding officers were more than enough to take two Cohorts out of action. At the moment, both Cohorts were practically depleted in terms of both man and equipment, despite the first day having yet to end. All units committed to the ground campaign, one mechanised and four infantry cohorts, had either been wiped out or rendered ineffective.

It was only a colony... The senior Centurion was suddenly glad that he had decided to stay away from politics. When the dust settled, that idiot of a general would find himself in serious trouble and probably be wishing he had been eaten by a varren on Tuchanka in a public show for the Krogan... Taking a sigh he said, "If so, All we can do is try to take the planet and secure it as quickly as possible, but I am not optimistic."

"They are that good?"

"If not better. As much as I hate them, I must credit them for fighting smart and effective. I've already lost two Cohorts in a day, my friend. I'll probably lose more before this day is over."

"Yeah... What a pity..."

"A pity... aye..."

The two old officers just stared at each other on the screen, losing themselves in thought. Both were dealing with an internally conflicted. On one side, was their sacred duty to serve and obey their superior's commands, such was the code each Turian lived and died for. However, on the other side, was their disgust on their commander, a stupid and inept general who had no talent on military matters and did nothing but curry favours with some pyjak politicians. If they followed their duties, more men would be killed for nothing but potentially enraging a new alien race who could be as terrible as the Rachni or the Krogan. On the other hand, disobedience was something they could not stomach.

There was the sound of someone speaking from the call, the Navy officer told someone off screen something about scout reports. Then, he returned the conversation.

"I have to get back on duty now, my friend. I just call to tell you that... We are stuck in something terrible because of that idiot... I'm sending you the report along with my notes here... I believe there is something that may have I've missed... Use it well. There are rumours abut extra Legions coming, but... we can't take any more losses... Be careful my friend. We die for the cause."

The motto just echoed in the half-ruined room. Glancing around, the old Centurion just grumbled,

"Yeah... Die for the cause."

Outside of the windows were thin blue streaks of light. It was reinforcements. These two Cohorts here were too banged up to put up a proper fight tomorrow, and it looked like that idiot general was going all-out... stupid... He would probably sacrifice the entire Legion for nothing. Pyjaks... The only thing he could pray now was for decent Centurions to be leading strong and well-armed Cohorts. They would need that tomorrow morning.

A chirp was heard on his omni-tool. It was the report of the scouting operation. He just scanned through it, ignoring most of the confusing, technical terminology. He just wanted to see the notes his friend had written, as well as his men who had been in charge charge of this task. However, the document was still being loaded, and so he was having to wait.

Glancing upwards, the old commander watched the blinking stars in the dark sky night. Normally, it would be soothing, but today, he felt something else... It was like something terrible was brewing across the horizon. If he was right, the humans were massing their troops, preparing for a counter-strike. Apparently, for these humans, losing their capital did not equal failure. Moreover, despite not being in the area, they had already been able to deal serious casualties to three cohorts. What if they focused their strength on those three exhausted cohorts and their reinforcements?

A chill ran down his spine. No, he would need to talk with the Centurions. If he could not lead them away from the deadly battles, he would try to reduce the losses of the Legion. Good soldiers were hard to find and to train, good Turians were even harder, and the two replacement Cohorts, the Seventh and Eighth, were filled with eager young men.

His comm officer ran into the room, relaying the request to land from the incoming reinforcements. The old man put one hand on his elderly face... The night was still long, and he had much to do.

 *******

 **Location:**  
Command bunker - 100 meters underground  
Jungle in the North-eastern hemisphere  
Planet Shanxi  
Zhusanjiao System (contested)

 **Time:**  
January 29, 2200 (Terran calendar)  
2225 (Earth time)

Lieutenant General Richard Williams looked at the reports sent from the frontlines. The lost ground on Shanxi could not be reclaimed, which was to be expected. However, what was not expected of was the shear ballsiness (or balliness... he forgot the exact phrase) of the enemy commander. He wasn't sure if their commander was stupid or ignorant. His men were ambushed on all beachheads, and yet he still sent more men in, just to rack up the tally. He achieved orbital superiority, yet he did not deployed any orbital strikes. He planned for a ground invasion, yet he gave little to no air coverage to his men.

All three blunders were in less than 12 hours of fighting... Or four. He did not secure, nor properly patrol the system thoroughly enough. Two more prowlers had entered the system and remained undetected, while the first to arrive in the system, had already left, following the Turian cruiser carrying the captured Mech-operators and the Quarian crew members. That duo of death and stealth was still transmitting to his bunker, allowing him to see and hear the enemy in real time. This was a great boon to the defenders as they were able to know what their enemy was planning to do and plan a way to counter it.

Over 300 men were sent down to secured a square being held by a platoon of 30 men? Have the men to fallback and leave behind some traps, the rearguard would provide cover if the attackers planned to rush in. Fighter coverage was requested? Deploy a MANPAD (Man-portable air-defense system) on the flank. Enemy was able to secure the booby-trapped area? Blow everything sky high.

Piece by piece, step by step, the Turians advanced, securing the abandoned city and suffering heavy casualties. Richard grimaced however. That was the only good news. The Turians had already initiated scouting operations in the system, almost scaring the prowlers s***less. Some ISIO operatives even suggested that the invaders were close to finding the locations of the (probably hidden) Mass Relay, and find the hidden corridor leading deep into Federation territory. Once that happened... Richard suddenly shuddered. He just hoped that the _Predator_ fleet would intervene fast enough to neutralize that threat.

Moreover, tapping into the enemy's communications revealed even worse news. The enemy commander was sending down all of his remaining force, numbering up to 3000 men, and their equipment, while also requesting for more reinforcements from wherever they came from. What made the matter worse was the position of this specific... idiot. A Turian General named Brutus Oriendas, was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Both his parents were influential politicians at planet-based level. He seemed to have been able to gain significant support from some of his peers, if the captured conversations were to be believed. He talked nothing about the conflict with the humans, he just wanted troops for _war game practice_.

That angered Richard greatly, it looked like this idiot had no care for the lives or the prospect of his men, he only knew of his own benefits. How a being like Brutus could become a front-line general was beyond of his knowledge. Granted, there were still some men like that in the Federation, but most, if not all, of them was assigned non-essential duties (some only had decorative positions). The Terran Armed Forces did not tolerate corruption, stupidity, cowardice nor arrogance. Yet, in less than a single day, that Turian general violated every code of conduct that a general officer should uphold.

Which meant that idiot had to pay for it; preferably with his life.

Musing with a cup of coffee next to him, Richard continued to run a few more simulations, wondering about his next move. The enemy had a high concentration of troops in a relatively small area, with roughly 1500 men and their armoured detachment. The Administration District was already half-destroyed by the initial air strikes before the landfall. The defenders in the area activated traps to further render the area unusable, at least to the Turians... There were two full-strength infantry companies in the area and one more at half-strength after some minor skirmishes. It was not exactly a fair fight in the area now, and he could only muster less than 400 men while the enemy already had over a thousand...

It meant that he needed a force-multiplier. Luckily, he had it, or to be more specific, them. Scattered across the planet, and hidden in secure locations, were ten tactical nuclear warheads, each was rated at five kilotons. While it sounded... small compared to other used devices in the past, this yield was the best to use in this situation. A fireball blast of 150m, fatality range up to 780m, combined with "clean" use (thanks to make-up of the thermonuclear device), he could use them to deny any access to the enemy.

That... may work. He ordered Paris to run a simulation program, to measure the destruction that it would bring. While Paris was not a full-fledged military AI and had no identifiable emotions, he was more than sufficient to give Richard what he wanted. A bit of tweaking and wording allowed him to see the result of such an attack. The Central Square and surrounding office blocks would be completely reduced to ashes, leaving nothing behind. Projected death based on current situation (or how many _crows_ would be burnt) was nearly 1000... The sewer system could survive the blast, if none of it was too damaged from the initial attack, and it should provide enough of a barrier to stop any radiation and fallout... Good, his men could use the underground system (again) to attack and retreat after the area had literally cooled down.

Good... He reached for a datapad and typed in the order, along with the accepting responsibility for using a nuclear device. The 75th Infantry Company, had already suffered casualties during the day, and would be the one to sneak in via the underground, plant the charge and then get out quietly. In case things went south, the 79th and 78th would provide them with support. The nuclear hammer would be activated remotely. H-Hour would be in... seven hours from now. After all, those Turians would need a good wake-up call.

Though he had no idea if using nuclear weapon as an alarm clock was a bit extreme...

The order was quickly routed and he received acknowledgements. Reports of a squad volunteering to plant the mine under the enemy's feet was soon forwarded to him, and Richard, just smiled grimly.

The fight had just begun, and those soldiers... they had to come back alive. They were far more useful to the Motherland alive than being death. After all, a soldier is not to die for his country, but make the enemy's soldiers die for theirs.

Sipping his coffee, he just grunted. The terrible taste of military-issued coffee lingered in his mouth, the bitter taste kept him awake better than anything else, apart from his daughter's crying in the morning when she was just a baby... Speaking of her, he pulled out a worn photo from his chest pocket. The young and cheerful young lady was one of the few bright spots in his life (other than his beautiful wife and his athletic son). No boy was good enough for her because she was his princess. Speaking of which, wasn't there a internet billionaire courting his daughter? He heard his wife mentioning that... that... _boy_ a few times already. After dealing with this alien problem, he would have to go back home and talk with him man to a man, or a father to his daughter's boyfriend, preferably with a big-*** shotgun to emphasise his point.

Managing a weak smile, Richard stool up and poured some more coffee into his mug. The day was still long and he had much to do...

* * *

 **Last edit on 15 January. Credit goes to CPT Reynolds. Thanks for your help.**


	12. Chapter 11 - Edited

**Hmm, engineering students can say that they have seen many things. Like having a "pass" for their practical assignment but it was marked as "fail" due to the carelessness of their teachers. Thank goodness that the mistake was fixed in one day. Though it isn't as terrible as spending your Christmas reviewing your whole semester... or even re-fail the re-take...**

 **Holly...**

* * *

 **Thank you, my readers, for your wonderful support. Each of your "follow" and "favourite" is the fuel for me to continue writing. Moreover, each "review" was a bless to read and to receive.**

 **Watcher123: So far, the Turian general (Brutus Oriendas) is still in orbit, he just spend his men on the planet below (which should be acceptable, the problem is, he's wasting them). In other words, the nuke would (probably - hint, hint) kill the senior Centurion (the competent/good) leader, but not the general. There would still be an inspired Turian leader (or leaders, one graceful in defeated, one more proud and brave), but they would not show it now. And, finally, thanks for your support in reading my story.**

 **general-joseph-dickson: Thank you for your praise, my faithful reader. I'll try my best to continue to maintain and improve my level of writing**

 **Blaze1992: The crew of ME (Shepard and co.) will still kicking ass in my story, just on a less extreme level (i.e. not saving the galaxy level... for now). In addition, thanks for your ideas, I see potential in them.**

 **OMAC001: Very big surprise. Some of it was hinted in this chapter**

 **SpartanGolsan017 [guest]: Actually, Order 227 was a real order given by Joseph Stalin, General-Secretary of the Communist Party, Soviet Union, in World War 2-era. Don't worry, I'll answer the video cameo in this author note**

 **ethan . brown. 167: Life sucks after all.**

* * *

 **Credit:**

 **The idea of "Biotic Slash" (used by Asari SPECTRE Halri Januudo - mentioned briefly in this chapter) was the idea of Blaze1992. It would see extensive use when we return to the Citadel Council (in around 10 chapters)**

 **The video game cameo (at the end of chapter 8) - in the "thought" of General Williams - was borrowed from the Intro cut scene of Imperial Guard in Dawn of War Soulstorm. I haven't played this game yet, but I like this intro.**

* * *

 **This chapter begins somewhere after Chapter 7 (the destruction of the space force) and Chapter 8 (the Turians got burnt in the space port on Shanxi), however, it ends at "Day 5" of the War (currently done writing Night 1) after a "time skip" (the reason for this is, well, "in-story politics", inspired by the stereotype real-life politics). I'd like to note this in order to avoid all possible complications.**

 **Also, many details about the scene and view of the interior of the Citadel are pure imagination of the author. I have yet to play any installations of the franchise - You read that right. I read a Mass Effect fanfic without even actually playing it. Hence, any deviation from the game should be chalked up to my wallet having not enough money.**

* * *

 **Location** :  
On board Turian cruiser TFS Striker  
On the other side of Mass Relay 314  
Unnamed system  
Citadel space

 **Time** :  
January 29, 2200 (Terran calendar) - March 14, 2727 (Galactic calendar)  
12:30 (Earth time) - 20:06 (Galactic calendar)

Asari SPECTRE Halri Januudo walked along the corridor and watched the bloody scene on her cruiser... or to be more precise, the cruiser that her bond-mate (a Turian SPECTRE named Drutis Abberion) was able to borrow from the Turian Navy. It was an old ship, but was still able to take a beating. Plus, it was about to be decommissioned, making the option to buy/request it for future SPECTRE operations even more welcoming. Granted, she would sell it to her sister, a member of Eclipse "security union" soon afterwards, but it was not the point. This was just a shake-down cruise to get a feeling on running the ship, plus finding the "renegade Quarians" (all of the Migrant Fleet, actually),... not...

... Not facing this carnage from hell.

The original security force of the Turian Hierarchy had practically been wiped out. Among the original crew of over 120, nearly 40 were killed, and a dozen of so of who were maimed! Those brutes! Who even considered such a bloody option nowadays? Okay, the Krogan would, and possibly the Batarians. However, she did not know of any instances where a... giant metal pole in was your chest. Some unlucky Turian troopers had to die with their eyes open, shock and fear filling their faces. Glancing to the side, she saw one such a trooper laying there with his blood staining the floor.

When she had become a SPECTRE, she considered it one of the proudest moments of her life. She had grown up on stories of Asari Justicars and SPECTREs, and how they were the force for good in Citadel Space and beyond. They were the heroes of the galaxy, and her joining their ranks was a great honor. She had a great teacher, her bond-mate, and the two had been working together for the past couple of years, doing the will of the Council and righting the wrongs that the seedier beings of the galaxy thought they could get away with. Every assignment was an adventure, and the action never got to her. That is, until she arrive to liberate the humans from the Quarians.

Muttering a prayer, the Asari SPECTRE closed the dead Turian's eyes... One did not deserve to die without dignity like that... However, compared to some other deaths, especially the reinforcement of Eclipse soldiers, he was still lucky - his body was still (relatively) intact and there was not much blood... Casualties on board had been incredibly high for them. Twenty-five Asari and thirteen Salarians were killed, reducing the Eclipse presence to zero. Some of them were killed by gunfire, which was acceptable, while others were finished in a more... gruesome way. She had already seen one Asari having her head cut off (almost completely) by... something like a short, flat, blunt metal blade. The unlucky Asari did not have enough time to even erect a biotic shield and was finished quickly. What was even more ironic was that she was the very first to fall in the reinforcement wave from Eclipse. The gruesome death had scared the rest of the team into shock, leading to a few more deaths along the way, it was not until she went there herself that they were able to turn the tide.

However, she was still too late. Those _brutes_ had already been able to rack up nearly three dozen kills by then. Those pesky Quarians and their pets... If they had not been unconscious already, she would have knocked them out herself a few times just to release the stress.

Grunting painfully and soothing the painful mark on her jaw, she walked into her cabin. That human leader... he was quite a good, albeit brutal, fighter. He was not as fast as her, but all of his attacks aimed for vital spots on her body. If any of them had landed, she could be a blobby mess on the ground by now. Moreover, his stamina was quite respectable, being hit to the gut three times and yet still able to stand, uttering something like, " _You hit like a girl_ ". She had no idea what he meant, either an insult or a praise. That would have to wait for a meld and a proper questioning.

It was not until she threw the strongest kick she could muster that he was slowed down somewhat. A heavy thud and a grunt told her that the kick had landed somewhere on her enemy's body. The attacks stopped, but for a few seconds only. Opening her eyes, she found out that the enemy had quickly distanced himself away to pick up that brutal tool of death from a deceased man. Notably, the said "Tool of Death" was pinned on the dead Salarian soldier.

Then, in a blink of an eye, he charged, slashing toward her. She did not know what it could do, but a glance at the last victim told her that it would not be good. Ultilising the precious second she had left, she focused her power on the hand and activated her biotic ability, dubbed "Biotic Slash" by her trainer. Her soft blue hand was quickly engulfed in an blazing blue biotic flame, able to cut through metals and bodies alike (personal experience of course). The warm feeling on her hand calmed her down for the incoming attack.

The human, clad in grey space suit and dark helmet with a transparent visor, suddenly stared at her with something like... Fear? Surprise? Halri's mind paused for a split of a second before she noticed that despicable and brutal tool of execution was coming down from up high. The training took over her actions, as she slashed her hand forward, aiming at that despicable tool of death, while angling her body to dodge the attack in case she failed to block it.

Her left hand slashed forward and a slight feeling of touch told her that the attack had been blocked. The blue flame was able to cleanly cut off the handle of the black blade soaked in blood with virtually nothing to slow it down. Her right hand, flattened out like a blade, thrusting forward, and aiming for a clean strike at their visor of the alien's helmet. She saw his eyes widen, and almost looked like an Asari in total shock. However, instead of being frozen, he simply pushed on, disrupting her plan of attack.

Still gripping the cut handle in the hand, he pushed it forward while bending its knee to get shorter. His hand connected to her jaw while she missed. Moreover, a follow-up attack punched her chin upward, making stars to fill her vision. Suddenly, she saw nothing but hazy lines. All sense of direction and combat were not lost. It had been a long time since she was hit hard like that, and before she even had the chance to recover, extra strong and hard jabs landed on her face and ribs. Each of them push her closer to the edge of collapse.

The dizziness interrupted her focus, deactivating the "Biotic Slash". She was pretty sure that the blue flame disappeared even before she could bring it up and block in front of her face. Normally, such an action would cause some sort of reaction with her abilities, resulting anywhere between a terrible biotic burn and having the hand cut off. Moreover, through some means of attack, that brute of an alien was even able to pry her arms out and try to break one at the elbow. The key word this case was try, thank the Goddess.

However, it did not mean that his attack had no benefits. She felt pain everywhere on her body, jaw, elbow, hands, legs..., which rendered her unfit for action for a nearly 12 standard galactic hours. Meanwhile, those pesky aliens continued to resist all efforts to be subdued, creating trouble and slowing everyone down. Her partner had no choice but to hit them, hard, and to stop them from doing anything else. It was effective, but Halri did not think them as... suitable.

Not yet, at least. He should have tried to convince them with less brutal methods first, but it did not matter anymore. The new aliens were stopped from causing any more trouble on the ship. This cruiser had been damaged heavily in the fighting, and any more problems might result in them not making it back to the Citadel alive.

Halri grunted while signaling the door to open. Those pesky humans... They fought, despite being outnumbered and outgunned... They should have surrendered! She didn't know what those Quarians had done to them, but they much have been able to convince them that the Quarians were the best choice. Despite the reputation that Quarians had, not all of them were thieves and vagrants. The Quarians must have been desperate to break some of the biggest laws set up by the Council and uplift these primitives into fighting for them. What did they do? Surely these humans would realised that with pressure from the Citadel Council, they could gain their independence back and join the greater and larger galactic community right? Why fight when there were better ways?

The door opened with a light hiss, revealing a bounded figure sitting on a chair. The suit, soaked in blood of at least three colours, belonged to the very human leader that had fought hand-to-hand against her. A bandage made from brown cloth was stitched on the lower left part of his body. The medical crew had told her that a bullet had gone straight through his body and missed all of his vital organs. It was just a sheer luck that he was able to escape death within a hair's breath. That kind of luck was something she always yearned to have.

It was not until now that she had the chance to look at him closely, especially with the helmet removed from his head. She was baffled to say the least. He looked like an Asari, just like the whispers of the crew, though he was a male apparently. This human also had "fur" on its head, which was quite refreshing after seeing just horns and spikes.

 _Was there a chance that these humans were some sort of distant-cousin of the Asari?_ She asked herself silently before shaking her head. Deciding the "family tree" would be the job of some Salarian having too much free time, not an Asari SPECTRE in the field. She had to wake this alien up and convince him to rise up against his oppressors. This was a job of utmost importance as it would be such a pity to lose such a... fine specimen. The Council always welcomed new alien races to join the light of unity and civilisation.

Silently, she stepped in, trying to think of a way to wake the dosing off alien when he suddenly jerked up, watching her intensely. He, she still assumed this was a male human, gazed at her with his black eyes filled with raw emotion. Being an Asari had its perks, or not, as she was able to vaguely feel the hatred, anger and resentment aimed at her. She could understand it. He probably thought that all aliens but the Quarians were enemies. She would have to try and convince him that he should be thankful for having his unrightful masters removed!

" _Tran, Kien Vuong. Militia Sergeant. PAC ID number Mango-One-Two-Niner._ "

Huh? What was he saying? To Halri's ears, it sounded... rehearsed somehow. It seemed he was speaking a pre-written message. But the question was... what did he mean?

Thankfully, analysing the debris had paid off. Data stored on the destroyed Quarian vessels had been partially recovered, and the data on human's language was well preserved. It might be able to remedy the language barrier without using the meld. Granted, she would still need to meld with him (and/or his friend), but she preferred to have it explained first. Otherwise things could get worse.

Turning on her omni-tool, she almost missed the raised eyebrows of the human. It looked like he was surprised... Was it meant that this was the first time he saw an omni-tool first-hand? Possible. After all, if the Quarians were really the masters, and the ones who uplifted the humans, they would reserve the tool for themselves only. She suspected that desperate times were forcing the Quarians to do things that they would normally not do. However, it was just a small detail, and not worth her time and attention.

Speaking via the holo-screen on the the tool, she kept her voice as slow and as clear as possible.

"Greeting humans, do you understand me?"

Now, the human seemed surprise, even if it was just a flash. His eyes blinked slightly, probably surprised that she was able to salvage some information on their and Quarian's languages. Hmm... Well, it was possible that the Quarians had already told them something, like that they were the finest the galaxy had to offer, to the new primitive alien race. Something like that. What a pity...

"The translation was bad, but understandable."

"Human, fear not. We are here to help you."

That really made him show something. Eyebrows were raised all the ways up while his eyes narrowed after blinking once or twice, his lips were slightly opened and his hands, while still being cuffed, fell. If she had to guess, he was surprised at what she had told him. Perhaps he was beginning to realize that the Quarians were not what they claimed themselves to be. Then his face changed. It almost looked like her Mother's when she was found out after breaking some rules at school. But what could she have possibly done wrong? No, she had done nothing wrong yet, apart from hitting him earlier. But to be fair, he was also attacking her, and it was an insane battle inside a _holy-goddess_ space ship! The shear thought alone was crazy enough.

"It is the truth, human. The Quarians had taken control of your kind had they not? They met you when you had yet to achieved space flight, they gave you spaceships but took away your freedom. Listen to me, human; please, denounce your masters and you will have our support in regaining you freedom. Then, you will be welcomed to the light of galactic civilisation, the Citadel Council."

The man expression changed suddenly again, but it quickly disappeared. The human was quiet for a long time, and she began to wonder if perhaps the translator had made a mistake when he said

"... Interesting... Tell me more, I'm listening."

Halri smiled, unknowingly playing into the devious plan of the (captured) mech-team leader. Had she paid attention, she would have realised that a flash of anger and hatred ran through his eyes while she was still talking. Many experienced Matriarchs could almost spot it instantly and begin to figure out ways to get to the source of it. Unfortunately, Halri was still a Maiden, those still considered the "youngest" and "inexperienced" in the Asari Republics. Moreover, the young man in front of her, while significantly younger, had seen many different movies and had a vague understanding on what to do. That was even before he considered his people's history, a history filled with war, destruction and intrigue.

From what he could tell, this alien seemed naïve, but despite that, Vuong knew he was not _that_ good. He could maybe try to buy some time to think of an escape or try and delay enemy reinforcements. However, coming up with incredible plans to use on the enemy was not exactly his expertise. This wasn't a movie after all, where he would get the hot girl and kill the bad guys. Nevertheless, being a prisoner, beggars can't be choosers, and he had to make do with what he had. In addition, this was still a question and answer session, not _interrogation_... and he was pretty sure that he could not hold strong and firm under the second choice.

"Those Quarians violated Citadel's Law. They initiated First Contact without the approval of the Council or the presence of an Asari Matriarch and they uplifted you with no permission given. They practically made you their client race, stripping away your freedom and independence, further violating the Charter of the Council. And let not forget that all of this happened because they activated a dormant Mass Relay, one of the most important laws of the Charter. They are desperate and dangerous, and you cannot trust them. After bringing the Geth to the galaxy and drifting across the galaxy, they stripped away everything from you humans. We can make them pay for their actions, human. We can do that; we just need your help."

He was once again quiet, thinking hard on what to say next.

"... Let me think about it first... But who are the Geth?"

"They didn't tell you? This just shows how desperate they are, and many would be happy to see them rot in Terminus systems... Anyway, the Geth were originally robots made by the Quarians that gained sentience and rebelled against their masters over three hundred years ago. The Quarians gave up their homeworld and, as a punishment, their embassy was closed on the Citadel and no longer had any diplomatic ties to the Council. It was probably a few dozen years ago that they, probably after becoming more reckless and desperate, decided to subdue you race."

"Al... Alright... Just... Just let me think for a bit..."

He spoke shakily, and must be in shock now, which was understandable. After all, it was not every day that you had your entire world turned over like that. Still, Halri still had to tell him something.

"Don't worry, take some time. We'll talk again, soon enough. Also, we will be arriving at the Citadel, the seat of the Council, in a few days. There, you can directly ask for support. I believe that the Councilors will agree to liberate your people."

Nodding, he asked, "What about my friends?"

"... I'm sorry?"

"How many had survived?"

"... Three more humans, but no Quarians."

"... Worse than I thought... Can I meet them? As soon as possible would be best... We need to discuss this together."

"Yes, I'll see if that can be arranged. I will get back to you in an hour. Meanwhile, get some rest. If you need anything, just push the yellow button on the wall and someone will answer. Do not leave this room, however, otherwise one of the guards will think you are attempting to escape. Are there any more question?" When she saw that he didn't have any, she said, "No? Alright, see you later." With that, Halri stood up and walked out of the door, still watching the "devastated" captured human.

However, she did not know one thing: she was played from the very beginning.

A few seconds after the door had closed, the "shocked to the core" young man slowly sat straight back up, putting his right leg over the left knee and scratching his chin. His dull eyes now sharp, just like after consuming a quadruple espresso (not highly recommended for anyone who did not study Medicine, Law or Engineering in university). He mused quietly in his own mother tongue, just in case there were some kind of listening or video devices in the room. Better safe than sorry.

 _Just like my motto, life is s***, so now I have to make fertiliser and dung bombs,_ he though. Going over the entire conversation he had with the alien, he tried to think of something he could do _. I can maybe screw 'em six ways over once we arrive in that..._ Citadel _... Hmm... Further discussion with the team would be needed..._ "

Silently, he made a vow. He promised to his deceased friends and to his ancestors that these invaders would pay for their crimes, preferably slowly and painfully, if he could spare some time and effort. Yuri, Jack, and two others... They were all his good friends, and now, they were his comrades-in-arms. Such a bond could not be broken easily. Smiling savagely, Vuong began to try and think of plans that he could implement when he broke out of this prison. Granted, most of them involved shooting their way out and he and his friends likely to dying, but that would be a dammed good way to spite these Witches and Frogs.

An hour went by and the door hissed open, revealing the remaining of the Mech-team currently being escorted by those dammed Witches. He quietly sighing, only four members of the team alive now. Liang " _Imperium_ ", Zohar " _Shiva_ " and Arthur " _Shark_ ". So these were all that was left... Jack and Yuri had already been killed during the firefight, and Sahir and Ibere were both severely injured when he last saw them and were had probably drawn their last breaths at some point in the fight.

His friends stepped inside the room, closely followed by the Witches. These looked slightly different than the one who had talked to him, but still looked like a piece of eye candy and wanabees with guns. While that might sound like a good thing, it was never a good combination. He remembered that there had been some while fighting on the ship, and that many showed some of prowess in combat, and the abilities of that one he had fought personally. Both sides looked at each other with undisguised hatred. How none had attempted to kill each other by now was a real mystery and a miracle (though he knew better to question the powers of Fate).

Vuong quickly stood up, hands still bound but with his hips and legs relaxed, ready for could be his last moments. Meanwhile, his friends were tensing up, preparing for any situation that may arise, including an execution. However, instead of more bloodshed, they were just shoved inside the room (though the phrase "shove" might be a bit too strong). In addition, what surprised the four young men the most was that their hand-cuffs, which seemingly were made from "light", were deactivated, allowing them to move their hands freely. After that, those four b****es just left the room without any words spoken.

How and why such thing happened were purely guesswork, but they decided not to waste their time on such unimportant things and to focus more on the matter at hand.

The door closed again under some muttering of the blue chicks, leaving the bruised and tattered mech operators alone. They were already beaten, but they were still alive. The enemy still regarded them as "weak" and "underlings". However, in each of them was the raging fire of vengeance. They were going to be a band of wolves, hungry for pay back, but still cunning enough to lay low and wait for the time to strike.

Those aliens were about to regret for not killing them soon enough.

"Did any of those dammed Blue B*****es talk to you?" Arthur asked.

"One, seem high-ranking," Vuong answered.

"The one wearing purple armour, with a D-rack and some white facial markings?" Zohar asked, turning toward their "sergeant".

"That one, though I though her size was E," Liang commended

"Details, details..." Zohar said, waving his hand dismissively. Looking around, he asked in a whisper. "So, what should we do now? We have a few more days to form some kind of plan before arriving there."

"I think we should tell them to f*** themselves," Arthur said with fury

"Seconded," Liang added, with equal anger.

"Good idea... But how do we actually do it? Long and details or just short and raw?" Arthur asked.

"Keep it short," Zahor said. "Something like ' _Get the f*** out of our backyard you filthy xeno!'_ Precise wording may change though."

"I like that..." Vuong said, scratching his chin in thought. "We need to be careful. They may think the Quarians uplifted us, but I have a feeling that most here would kill us if we did anything that even _smelled_ like a plot."

All four of them sat down and discussed on what they could possibly do to throw a monkey wrench into the mechanics of the Council. After some discussion, they came up with a crazy idea, so crazy that it could actually work. During the entire trip to the Citadel, Vuong and the others continued saying obscenities and other words of a crude nature, while also throwing in anger whenever the Asari or other aliens came into the room. They had to play the role of people who were angry and in denial about their situation, and began to change their attitude after they were informed they were a day away, to fit the role of people who were beginning to question everything.

The only phrase they used to answer any question was the same: Family name - Given name - Position - ID number. Standard procedure of being prisoner of war actually.

So far, Vuong still swore like a sailor as he used to do when they were still in college, subtly telling his teammates that things were still in their control, for now. Their plan was gone over and revised continuously when new information was learned.

Years later, they would be told by the then-Director of the Institution of Intelligence and Special Operation that such a plan was filled with nothing but guts and bravado, and that if one of his agents had suggested doing something similar, he would immediately have him reassigned to a different department. He would tell them that he was impressed, and that only they could have pulled off something like what they had done.

* * *

 **Location** :  
Presidium Ward  
Citadel  
Serpent Nebula  
Citadel Controlled Space

 **Time** :  
February 2, 2200 (Terran calendar) - March 19, 2727 (Galactic calendar)  
0830 (Earth time) - 1606 (Galactic calendar)  
[ _ **The tide of war has turned**_ **\- Day 5** ]

The "flying car" carrying four human Mech-operators, one Asari SPECTRE and two Salarian Eclipse "escorts" (a fancy term of mercenary) touched down, gently, on the Citadel's parking lot. These seven figures stepping out attracted quite a few glances, especially when the first four were injured. Vuong and his crew decided to "keep the bandages" for appearance purposes. The Asari chick thought that they wanted to attracted more sympathy from the Councilors in order to have their homeworld liberated. How wrong she was...

Over the last four days, she had been questioning them. Despite their worst fears, the sessions were actually... civil. There was still the lingering anger at the deaths of their comrades, but they had been well behaved, and she assumed that this was because they had learned the truth. The SPECTRE had made more than a few crucial mistakes, she did not separate them or cross-check their story. She still assumed them to be a "primitive" species, having only recently discovered space flight. She was even more entrenched in the view that the Quarians had put a collar on the human race. The captured engineers intended to take full advantage of her mistakes.

Now, she was about to pay for them.

The "Tower", as it was called, was the main spot of the Presidium and was boasted as the focal point of power not only on this station but also all over the galaxy. It was impressive with glittering white spires and sparkling decorations. It made every one think that this alliance had built this station a long time ago (which would spell disaster for their plan, their families and even the Federation as a whole). However, Halri just told them nonchalantly that this was actually a relic left over by the Prothean Empire.

Despite their relief, their awe remained. If this was what the Prothean Empire was capable of, and the Council had use of that technology, then the Federation could be in serious trouble. However, when asked what improvements have been made to the station, they were informed that the station had been re-purposed but nothing else had been done. That surprised the humans. After all, a good engineer would make a product that others would copy from, but a great engineer would be able to improve (if not take it in a completely different direction) said product. A crappy engineer would simply make no changes.

These four men were a somewhat good brand of "gear-head". With limited resources and time, they were able to personalise their three mech and increase their overall efficiency by 5%. It was small, but an increase nonetheless. So, seeing a "product" being kept the same throughout the eras could almost be considered an insult to them.

Of course, they kept those thoughts to themselves. After all, it was an irrelevant detail to what they had in mind.

Each of them took a deep breath. Vuong glanced around to savour the details. Despite losing some respect for "not making one's own stations", the Council seemed to be rich enough to actually bring real green trees to plant here. Hmm... well, at least the basic requirements for life were the same as human's: oxygen, water and some nutrients to eat. The fear of diseases was somewhat eased with the help of the cruiser's medical crew, after they were done patching up the men that he and his friends butchered, of course. Granted, those doctors still looked at him with anger and hatred, but it was something he had already expected.

Aliens, of four or five different races, were mingling around; each with their own distinct appearance. The Witches with their blue to purple skins, the Frogs with their "slimy" and smooth-like skin in the colour of green to brown to red, and the most "important"... the Birds with their "metallic feathers" on their heads. Here and there, he spotted some short and fat aliens wearing suits, who looked like a very very big mole with metal skins in his eyes.

Most of the aliens around here was probably journalists of one kind or another... Hmm, it seemed like they were just as annoying as those in the Federation, looking for any story to increase sales, and what better story than one involving a new race being uplifted by the vagrants of the galaxy? Vuong wondered what kind of news had been leaked in the few past days, and how many Quarians had had to suffer from even more prejudice and racism because of what had happened at Shanxi... It did not matter anymore, because today was the day that humanity would make in impact.

"I'm just wondering a few things," Vuong asked. "Are the journalists coming here to listen to my pledge against the... "Quarian oppressors", and do they have the translation program?"

"Yes on both counts," the Asari answered. "Come this way, with me. The Councillor's Chamber is this way." As they walked, she turned to Vuong. "Why do you ask?"

Zohar simply turned to the side and approached another Salarian. No one knew what he was doing, or to be more precise, what he was chatting about with said Salarian, and then two Asari and a Turian. The three escorts seemed puzzled and the reporters around them were even more so. They stood there, patiently waiting for Zohar to turn back, and after a while, the Indian just turned back with his thumb raised. What the SPECTRE as told them was confirmed: these journalists had their translation working already.

"Oh, we just wanted to know..."

Glancing to the side and nodding silently, he signal the begin of the plan. One of the humans pulled out a datapad, one of the few things that had managed to survive the battle, and was allowed to keep it for "entertainment". The human known as "Arthur" hit a few keys and music began to play from the device. Everyone just stared at them, dumbfounded at scene unfolding in front of them. Then, the human known as "Arthur" began to... sing?

Quickly, the rough voice of four young male engineers flared up, along with the audio from the datapad. Without it, their voices would be considered as a disaster, somewhere equivalent to the screeching sound of ghosts in the night or the hard braking sound of a heavy truck when the driver saw a a small creature crossing the road.

 _Buddy you're a boy make a big noise_

 _ _Playin' in the street gonna be a big man some day__

 _ _You got mud on yo' face__

 _ _You big disgrace__

 _ _Kickin' your can all over the place__

 _ _Singin'__

 _WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU_

 _ _WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU__

 _Buddy you're a young man hard man_

 _ _Shouting in the street gonna take on the world some day__

 _ _You got blood on yo' face__

 _ _You big disgrace__

 _ _Wavin' your banner all over the place__

 _WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU_

 _ _Sing it!__

 _ _WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU__

 _Buddy you're an old man poor man_

 _ _Pleadin' with your eyes gonna make__

 _ _You some peace some day__

 _ _You got mud on your face__

 _ _Big disgrace__

 _ _Somebody betta put you back into your place__

 _WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU_

 _ _Sing it!__

 _ _WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU__

 _ _Everybody__

 _ _WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU__

 _ _WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU__

 _ _Alright__

 _WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU_

 _ _WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU__

 _ _WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU__

 _ _WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU__

 _WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU_

 _ _WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU__

 _ _WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU__

 _ _WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU__

Granted, a good portion of the song's slang could not be translatable until much later. At least without the use of a VI, and it would probably take them a while to fully understand the context of everything. However, the song had completed its job of attracting attention.

With the song ending, the whole wing of journalists were stunned into absolute silence. It could either a good or a bad sign, and Vuong briefly wondered what would their reactions be when he and his friends revealed the truth to them. Would they run away, or hide their heads under theblankets but still show their shaking arses? Hm... Nah, pissing their pants and crying for mama would be a more... preferable outcome for that.

At the moment, the group of seven had already reached the "escalator" leading to the chamber. It was because the press wanted coverage of the new alien. If the SPECTRE would lead them up via the elevator, how could the press get a clear picture of the new alien race? While the play was purely politic, it had, unwittingly, helped the human Mech-operators to achieve their goal. They need constant exposure to the press to convey their messages. It was pretty simple: Don't f*** with the humans. Of course, they had not told it yet, they just wanted to sing first as "warm up".

The Asari SPECTRE and her two escorts were completely stunned. They had not foreseen this situation. For four days, they only saw meek and silent humans, the ones worrying over their people, their home, their families. Now, it turned out that those humans were not weak after all. They were highly vocal and eager. But there was something in the back of her mind that warned Halri about an incoming threat. The danger came from no where other than those four aggressive young men.

Standing on the (long) escalator, four men quickly ignored the shocked and wided-eyed escorts. Around them, the journalists had practically forgotten that they were being "guarded" by a full-fledged SPECTRE and started to inch closer to these aliens, hoping to hear some... extra pieces of art and culture. When over half of the current reporters were _blue skins_ , that hope was something that could not be ignored.

The four young men simply raised their eyebrows a bit before standing in a perfectly straight line on the left of the escalator. Then, all four raised their right hands up and started snapping in a somewhat moderate. While the first man at the front, called "Liang" in the dossier, just kept silent, the humans behind him solemnly spoke up, and started to sing again

 _Courage, Duty, Honor!_

 _We call upon our troopers, in this our darkest hour,_

 _Our way of life is what we're fighting for,_

 _The flag that flies above us, inspires us each day,_

 _To give our very best, in every way!_

And then, all four of them roared up and sang together to the end of the song. It began with a chorus, an oath-like chorus.

 _It's a good day to die,_

 _When you know the reasons why,_

 _Citizens, we fight for what is right,_

 _A noble sacrifice,_

 _When duty calls, you pay the price,_

 _For the Federation I will give my life!_

 _Well all is fair in love and war,_

 _That's what my gunny says:_

 _You're not alive unless you're almost dyin',_

 _These are the words I march by: Duty, Courage, Honor,_

 _Every single day and I've been tryin'!_

 _It's a good day to die,_

 _When you know the reasons why,_

 _Citizens, we fight for what is right,_

 _A noble sacrifice,_

 _When duty calls, you pay the price,_

 _For the Federation I will give my life!_

 _(Courage, Duty, Honor!)_

 _The Eagle, he flies high above us,_

 _The Eagle, he makes our spirit soar,_

 _He gives me the strength to carry on,_

 _To fight, and win this war!_

 _It's a good day to die,_

 _When you know the reasons why,_

 _Citizens, we fight for what is right,_

 _(Courage, Duty, Honor!)_

 _A noble sacrifice,_

 _When duty calls, you pay the price,_

 _For the Federation I will give my life!_

 _(Courage, Duty, Honor!)_

 _It's a good day to die,_

 _When you know the reasons why,_

 _Citizens, we fight for what is right,_

 _A noble sacrifice,_

 _When duty calls, you pay the price,_

 _For the Federation I will give my life!_

 _(Courage, Duty, Honor!)_

 _For the Federation I will give my life!_

The song that they sang was different from the previous, as it was about it being a great day to die, and it was not every day that you heard someone sing about death while simply laughing off. The Turians and Krogan came close, but the former was usually about dying for a good cause while the latter were about slaughtering your enemies. While it could be seen as a way to show their urgency of overthrowing their oppressors, these humans were beginning to make Halri uncomfortable, and she was wondering if they had an ulterior motive in this... But they could not simply just threatened the Council... Right?

Bringing herself back to reality, she stepped onto the escalator, riding to the higher floor, where the humans, ironically, were waiting for her. She felt herself blushing. What kind of guide got left behind because of some songs? A bad one, and what kind of SPECTRE became stunned by those very same and _silly_ songs? A terrible one. Taking a few minutes, she stood on the escalator, waiting for it to bring her up to the upper floor.

One of those humans called her with a somewhat taunting voice

"Come on SPECTRE sweetie, are you really the best this galaxy can offer? You are even slower than my grandma!"

After that was the jeers coming from his friends... Did they just insult her? Yes, they probably did. Feeling heat rushed to the cheeks, she grunted silently. She began to climb the stairs as the escalator continued to move, and soon she was at the top with the humans. There, some of the journalists had been able to regain their composure after the little display that the humans had given. Some were already speaking, or just barely whispering, into their omni-tools. Others were still staring at the party as it was escorted, and she felt like the prestige of SPECTRE had just been damaged somehow.

"Took you long enough. Could you please to lead the way? We need to catch up."

"Catch up to what?"

"None of your concern... Just understand this, the sooner we meet the three Councillors, the sooner this day willend."

Numbly, she nodded. After all, she still had some jobs to do after guiding these humans in to ask for Council support. Mission reports to submit, debriefings to sit through, business deals, and the selling of equipment that she had acquired on her last couple of assignments.

Leading the humans into the hallway, she spoke, "The Councillor's Chamber is this way, follow me please. The journalists you saw outside will be entering the Chamber via another way."

The group quickly (in her opinion) moved down the corridor. Soon, they were almost "cut off" from any outside interference, and the silence eased her somewhat, after all, these humans may need to think of some kind of speech to ask for help. It was not like the Council would refuse anyway. Interrupting their train of thought would not be... prudent. Moreover, she was hoping that after the Councillors had agreed, she could try and request a meld, or four, with the humans. They seemed... exotic to her, making her wonder what would be like when both parties committed to a meld.

She had melded with many races before, among those, the most... pleasant would be the Turians. They were rigid and disciplined, but under that hard and stoic mask was a real sea of thoughts and emotions. Its sheer presence was more than enough to make a meld pleasant.

Walking in the corridor, she dismissed the feeling that the platform was inclining upward. Having walk through it many times, she chalked it up to Prothean designers having a different mentality. However, she failed to ignore the scowl forming on the humans' faces. They were having a completely different train of thought from what she had.

Vuong, Liang and Zohar, originated from Asia, where the monarch system had not been abolished until mid-20th Century, and quickly had a terrible feeling about this. They felt like the "stepping up" was a deliberate ruse from these aliens to belittle the newcomers. If such was what they aimed to do, they willl be properly surprised retaliated. Meanwhile, the last surviving member of the team, Arthur, was busy watching their surroundings. He knew that they were being watched from afar via security camera feed. The question was where those cameras were.

After a turn to the right, they began to hear some noises coming from a far. A quick explanation from the Witch told them that they were approaching the Chamber. The expected time was just over three minutes now. Good.

All four human glanced at each other, and silently nodded. Vuong brought out his music player and the speakers, as they were returned by the SPECTRE a few days ago. He suddenly had a stray thought the name, SPECTRE was one hell of an acronym. It was way better than anything he heard from the Fed recently. **SPEC** ial **T** actics and **RE** conaissance... They were supposed to be the best of the best that the Council had to offer; a group of agents who operated outside of the law to accomplish the will of the Council. Well, they were about to get shocked, rudely. Hitting the play button, music suddenly flared up again.

This song, the final song, was a fairly hard song to sing. Mostly due to the tempo and beat. Hence, they decided to lip sync with the speaker. After all, they need a melody of sort to properly finish their performance here. The music, felt threatening from the very first second, was verbalised very soon. The SPECTRE and her two Eclipse underlings were shocked and made afraid for the third time in the day.

 _War is coming swiftly_

 _The borders closing in_

 _We're a company of soldiers_

 _Mere forty rifles strong_

 _All alone_

 _Stand alone_

 _Ardenner ground is burning,_

 _And Rommel is at hand_

 _As the blitzkrieg's pushing harder_

 _The war is all around!_

 _All around_

 _Hold your ground_

 _Fight all eighteen days of battles,_

 _No odds are on our side_

 _Few will fight for all until the bullets are gone_

 _We, we will resist and bite!_

 _Bite hard_

 _'Cause we are all in sight_

 _We, we take up arms and fight!_

 _Fight hard!_

 _Resist and do what's right!_

 _No matter our fighting_

 _The numbers will still count_

 _We're outgunned and few in numbers_

 _We're doomed to flag of fail_

 _We fought hard_

 _Held our guard_

 _But when captured by the Axis_

 _And forced to tell the truth_

 _We'll tell it with a smile,_

 _We will surprise them with a laugh_

 _We are all_

 _We were all_

 _We were told to hold the border_

 _And that is what we did_

 _Honored were our orders_

 _In despite of our foe_

 _We, we will resist and bite!_

 _Bite hard_

 _'Cause we are all in sight_

 _We, we take up arms and fight!_

 _Fight hard!_

 _Resist and do what's right_

 _Gloria fortis miles_

 _The Wehrmacht closing in_

 _Adversor et admorsus_

 _The boar against the Eagle_

 _Gloria fortis miles_

 _The Wehrmacht closing in_

 _Adversor et admorsus_

 _The boar against the Eagle_

 _We, we will resist and bite!_

 _Bite hard_

 _'Cause we are all in sight_

 _We, we take up arms and fight!_

 _Fight hard!_

 _Resist and do what's right_

The last chorus, ironically, was sung _after_ the group had walked through the doorway leading into the chamber, which made all three Councillors stared at them with curiosity. These four humans were disregarding all formalities that beings usually showed when meeting with the Council, but considering these were new members to the galactic community, The Asari Councilor allowed it to pass. She also stopped her two colleagues, mostly the Turian Councilor, before anything had the chance to happen. She mentioned that singing might actually be the way of greeting that these aliens used. Hence, as upstanding members of the greater galactic community, they would have to bear these... childish behaviours, at least until the Quarians were defeated and this new alien race was liberated and joined the Citadel.

However, her worries were reduced. The last two songs were fused with a good dose of military influence, which greatly impressed the Turian Councillor. Many words were not properly translated, but their spirits were transferred completely. For the Cause, for Duty, for Honor. Despite death, or at least the threat of death, fighting for such reason was admirable and respectable. While the exact vocabulary and grammars might differ, the idea was the same. The smile on his face told the Asari that he would pledge support for the Humans, no matter what.

She briefly wondered if the Turian wanted to have the Humans as their client race. Hmm, the Turians would probably be very interested in that, but that would have to be determined at a later time. Until they were free from their _Quarian masters,_ and ready to stand on their two feet _,_ it would probably be best to allow them the choice of what they would want.

The Salarian, meanwhile, was _highly_ interested. She seemed to wonder what kind of technology this new alien race could introduce, and what sorts of capabilities they had. All the alien races of the Citadel shared the same technology base, derived from the Protheans. However, each civilisation had their own way of incorperating and developing that technology. The Turians prefered simple and ergonomic. The Asari, strongly affected by their religion and philosophy, made their ships with a more artistic style, but that only hid how dangerous they were. The Salarians, meanwhile, valued the energy efficiency and built ships in a very sleek and curvy manner. Understanding the appearance of one race's ship would not only be interesting, but also informative about their soceity.

That was even before they talked about other associated and client races. Being interested and curious were a given as they were Salarian.

The Asari turned her gaze back on the humans, mildly surprised because of their eyes. They were silently watching everyone in the room. Their eyes seemed to linger on the three seats a bit longer than normal, but it was understandable. They were the Councillors after all. They focused on the Batarian Ambassador, maybe because of the tales told by the Quarians, and grimaced. There was something unnerving about their eyes, and it was almost like they had an ulterior motive. It could be possible, but highly unlikely. They were just a race that had just discovered the space-flight, and had been taken advantage of by the Quarians. Surely they could not plan to do something terrible to their future liberators, right?

Nearly half a minute had passed and the chamber was still silent, with no one wanting to break it, not even the ambassadors and representative of other Citadel races. Their first impressions were not something that could be ignored, and would not doubt be passed on to whichever government(s) they were working for.

A slight grunt and the Turian Councillor spoke up. "Greetings, humans, and welcome to the Citadel Council. I am Councilor Sparatus, of the Turian Hierarchy, and with me are Councilors Tevos of the Asari Republics and Councilor Daexi of the Salarian Union. As the official governing body of the Council, we warmly welcome you to the greater community of the galaxy. We have heard about the uplift and oppression the Quarians put on your people. Fear not, for the Council will do their best to free you from the clutch so that you can join the Citadel Council."

Murmur broke out on the balcony for the press above their heads. Understandable, they were considering this situation at hand. However, what surprised him the most were these humans. They seemed... bored and annoyed. What? What happened? Did he say something wrong?

The human leader, at least from what the dossier sent by the SPECTREs sent them had said, scratch his chin before looking at him with something like... hatred? A brief but intense emotion flashed through his eyes. Due to the lack of interaction, Sparatus was unable to interpret that completely.

In a somewhat restrained voice, the human asked him, "Councillor... Sparatus, correct?"

"Yes, that is correct."

"Alright, we have a few questions to ask before we can work anythings out... I hope you don't mind."

"Please, go ahead," Sparatus said, skepticism sneaking into his voice.

"As I understand, you are the Turian Councillor, therefore, you are responsible for the actions of Turian's in... Citadel Space, more or less. Am I right?"

"Correct."

"That said, if any Turian acted in a negative manner, it would reflect badly on the Hierarchy and, more or less, you as well?"

"Yes." Now The councilor was getting suspicious. These humans were asking questions that were not normal for someone who had been uplifted.

"... And for the Batarians," he looked over at the four-eyed aliens with a grimace and look of disgust. "There are some... issues about their... cultural rights. _Slaves_. Am I right when I say they are still using _slaves_?"

"It is our right, human! Are you here for our help or not?!" The Batarian Ambassador was quickly enraged, not noticing the worried glances that the three Councillors were sending at him.

None of them liked the Batarians much, but they served as a buffer between Citadel Space and the Terminus Systems, so they were allowed to keep some of their "traditions" as part of an un-official agreement. Politics demanded it. Minor slavery was much better than an full-blown war against the entire Terminus systems, of which pirates were the brightest members. And it was cheaper too. They soon realized that these humans were planning something. It might not be only removing the oppression, but something else. Something... different, but how did they know about that slave problem? That knowledge was heavily suppressed in the Council Space, and the Quarians had no evidence to confirm it because, officially, only disavowed Batarian pirates kept that practice.

And then, the human leader gave a dry laugh.

"I know, mate, I know. I just wanted a confirmation. Trust, but verify, you know? Now, for the main course. Journalists above, pardon my language, but if you are the same as the wretched vultures calling themselves journalists back in our home space, today is going to be a field day... Now, to the Councillors themselves..."

He stopped for brief moment to inhale a breath, seemingly to calm down, for dramatic purpose, or both. Dread was felt by all officials in the room. Something was coming, and they were in the middle of it. The human, clad in a grey space suit and bandages, spoke up with a firm voice filled with conviction, anger and hatred.

"Councillor Sparatus, by the actions of the Turian Hierarchy and indirectly yourself, you have committed a crime against humanity on the gravest scale possible, so _f*** you_. Your admiral attacked our world without any provocation than the fact than the Quarians were there. To the Asari and Salarian Councillors: You think that we were uplifted by the Quarians... Well, you are wrong. In fact, we offered to help them because they were in need. So, _f*** the both of you_. Oh, and four-eyes, _slavery_ , is something that no human will tolerate, and if any of your ships come near human space, we will f*** you six ways over.

The human stood strait, his chin held high.

"We, the unrightfully captured citizens and personnel of _Terran Federation_ , demand our immediate release and return to Terran Space. If not, there will be consequences."

He turned to look at Halri, who had been standing off to the side.

"SPECTRE Halri Januudo, by either naivety, ignorance, or perhapse both, you are probably the worst intelligence agent I have ever seen, and for that, i say thank you, and _f*** you_ too. We, as the bright engineers of the Terran Federation, demand an apology and _full_ compensation from you and your organization for the loss of our friends and equipment, both Quarian and Human.

He turned back to face the Councilors. "And to the Citadel Council, you have violated the sovereignty and independence of the Terran Federation. Therefore, as our laws required, your actions have resulted in a _casus belli_ , or situation that can result in a war, between the Terran Federation and the Citadel Council. I would be careful, because we humans are not known for being forgiving when we are attacked by surprise."

"In short, our people's message was this: Let us go, return us to Shanxi, compensate us and the Quarians for all losses and damages, and leave us alone. If not, prepare to get f***ed.

Sincerely _, the Terran Federation_."

The human leader finished his tirade, leaving a stunned audience who were only capable of thinking one word: "WHAT?" Meanwhile, all four humans had a satisfied look on their faces. They had delivered a political s***storm for these aliens, making the rest of day become highly interesting and dangerous for them. However, they had already prepared for the worst case scenario...

Unknown to all, in the nebula that housed the Citadel, retribution and rescue were coming with the prowler named _Midnight_. On broad, a smirking crew was preparing to do what they had been told: make life as much a living hell as possible on the Citadel.

Captain Shepard and his crew had enjoyed the tongue-lashing that the "rescued" crew had just dish out. Now, they would return the favour with a message, sent directly from the Capital of Terran Federation.

A Declaration of War.

And a live show from Zhusanjiao System

* * *

 **The songs used in this chapter are, as order of appearance:**

 **\- "We will rock you", by Queen**

 **\- "It's a good day to die", Starship troopers theme song**

 **\- "Resist and bite", by Sabaton**

* * *

 **And that concluded this chapter. Nearly 8000 words (and probably 8400 after the edit), author's notes and response were not counted. Granted, a good portion of that was songs' lyrics, but cut me some slack will you? - smile -**

 **So now, we say the temporary farewell to the team of captured engineers. Don't worry, they are safe at the moment, after all, Captain Shepard of all people was outside and ready to bust them out (with probably "some" fireworks and dopes)**

 **Please read and review, constructive criticism is welcomed.**

 ***Edit 1 (on ~20h00, GMT+1, 21 December): editing grammar and vocabulary mistakes, alongside adding a few sections to make the story more "fluid". Also make the "speech" at the end a bit more "well-round"**

 ***Edit 2 (on 25 January) is made with help from CPT Reynolds. Everyone, let's cheer for him :)**


	13. Author's note

****NOT AN UPDATE. I AM STRONGLY SORRY FOR THIS****

 **Hi guys, Gnoah here (and in case anyone is wondering, my pen name is the reverse of my real name) and I am regret to tell you that the next update will not be online soon (or in foreseeable future). The reasons can be said shortly as "writer block" and "real life".**

 **While I spend the last two weeks of vacation in my house, I was still unable to write anything meaningful... That, and the internet signal in my country is pretty weak. While tit is enough to have text-based websites (like fanfiction for example), video and Facebook were pretty much out of use for quite a while. I can still use them, but at low quality or many photos unseen.**

 **The current draft for chapter 12 is pretty boring. While it features some special human's combat ability (past, present and future), the way I wrote it down was** **inadequate to transfer the fighting spirit of the Terran Federation. Moreover, the nuke that General Williams planned to attach at the Turian's position is also another obstacle. I still have no idea how to use tit "properly". Blow it too soon and we have no fighting scene, blow it too late and we would be dead by then already.**

 **In short, the draft I have so far would be deleted and re-write completely. It is all in the name of viewers' satisfaction.**

 **In addition, Captain Reynolds (on AlternateHistory forum) is helping me with the editing process. So I would spend some time (of the next week) upgrading my story. Nothing big, mostly grammar, spelling and vocabulary to ensure a "smooth" reading. Speaking of him, _Bravo for the Captain_.**

 **Last but not least is the exams... I have seven coming in the next week (and the Monday after that). A third of which I have virtually no idea what I learned in the last three or four months. Crap. I guess I would have to borrow my friends' notes and study that. These exams will decide whether I am allowed to keep my scholarship (2500 euro for a school year's fee) or not, so I really want to pass all of them.**

 **In short, expect (unannounced) upgrades in the next two weeks, not updates.**

 **Once again, I am sorry for this blunder of mine.**

 **And I feel like I am a bit sick tonight...**

* * *

 **HyperionATLAS: Thanks for your review. I'm trying my best to make that a reality. However, I am afraid that I would have to delay the next update of this story.**

 **Apollonir: Thanks for your review. Your story is one of my main inspiration source to further develop my story. I have already added the song list into the last chapter, but for the sake of clarification, they are: "We will rock you", "It's a good day to die" and "Resist and Bite", by Queen, Starship troopers [theme song] and Sabaton, respectively.**

 **Dunestyler: Well, I thought that swearing (F-suppression attack) like that is enough. But I have already fixed it into somewhat close to your idea. Do not worry, the "declaration of war" in your review will be recycled later in my story. All credit will be mentioned, of course.**

 **general-joseph-dickson: Thanks for your review.**

 **Blaze1992: Thanks for your review. Hmm, as I remember, you reviewed before I edit the old version of chapter 11. But even in the new version, the humans still reveal no further information, simply because they do not want to give the enemy any edge (that, and they love to spit in the aliens' faces). Regarding your recommendations for songs, I would say that the "Soldiers" would be a good option, but it would more like the background music in a certain scenario.**

 **OMAC001: Do NOT jinx it ;)**

 **nickbana1989: Yeah, something up to that effect. Though it would be better if a Sergeant beefs up his troops with that**

 **OBSERVER01: :D**

 **Fer82: Well, I was kind of stuck those days, I had no idea how to make the human engineers badass enough. While being polite is normal, they will not be able to get their points across. A recently elected President knew that and he did virtually the opposite of what to be expected... But anyway, why swearing is "not good", it does its job, and it fits my personal taste.**

 **Watcher123: Thanks for your review. What you said is my idea for this fic. We are human, either we would be very friendly to the aliens, or we would make them pay for their mistakes, especially if they shoot us without provocation in the First Contact. That, and I like HFY :)**

 **Revliledpembroke: Thanks for your details review. You are spot on! One of my major mistake is grammar and vocabulary. Despite having 10+ years studying English, I still make silly mistakes like you see. At the moment, I am in the middle of a revision process, so those mistakes can be fixed tin the near future. Hopefully.**

 **Sagittario: Thanks for your review. My story has 11 chapters so far, hope it is adequate for the moment.**

* * *

 **Once again, I'm sorry for having no updates after three weeks. I will try my best to have a new chapter by "Tet Holiday" (or Lunar New Year festival). Meanwhile, I hope you guys can have plenty of luck and success in the new year.**


	14. Chapter 115

**This chapter is the work of one of my readers on AlternateHistory forum. While the chapter is fairly short (over 2500 words), it is quite amusing to read. It simply shows what happens elsewhere in the sphere of Terran Federation, and simply further the terrible outcome of the _filthy xe_... I mean the alien invaders.**

 **Kudos for him :)**

* * *

 **Location:  
** _TFSV Safir_  
Asgard System  
Terran Federation

 **Time:**  
January 30, 2200 (Terran calendar)  
14h20 (Earth time)

Cai Lu smiled as she stood with her feet firmly planted into the polished metal bulkhead of her ship, and proud new flagship for the Terran space fleet, the TSS Safir.

"Tactical, where is the target now?"

"One hundred thousand kilometers and closing, Captain."

"What do you think Reed? We came out here to test the accuracy of the big guns, this could be a good distance," Lu asked, crossing her arms behind her back.

Commander Reed, a no nonsense officer who she had never seen smile, flatly stated, "Recommended engagement range is fifty thousand kilometers."

She cocked her head to the side and grinned, "At fifty the computers will guarantee a hit. We are supposed to be testing the weapons, not just sitting on our hands while MATT does all the work for us."

MATT was the name affectionately given to the multi-matrix AI that ran the Safir's systems. A collection of the latest Mk. XVI of second-generation AI systems running together, they formed the backbone of the ships electronic warfare systems as well as monitored the ship's internal systems and external sensors. When helm plotted a course, MATT calculated the fuel consumption and burn duration. If something was within a million kilometers of the ship, it tracked its location and velocity relative to the ship. And if something needed to be shot down, MATT could aim the weapons and fire on it.

It wasn't wrong to say that the ship was largely autonomous. The crew of the Safir existed more to maintain the ship and ensure the mechanical components worked as intended, but Lu always considered that the natural way of any vessel. Even a ship on the blue oceans of Earth during the Age of Discovery wasn't so much as sailed by the crew, they just made sure the ship didn't sink while it carried them across the ocean.

The Safir wasn't a ship of discovery however, it was a predator built for war.

Work on what would eventually become the Camelot-Class of Terran battleships began as a study in early 2188 at the direction of the Admiralty Board. The original plans were for an expanded _Normandy_ , carrying an additional twelve guns, but as the blocky design typical of most Terran vessels took shape the Admiralty quickly shelved the design and decided to start from scratch.

After she had seen the proposed design, she was glad they had. It literally looked like a brick with a bunch of small barrels poking out from the front.

Instead another design, pursued by the Division of Construction and Repair and dubbed a "cruiser-killer," was selected by the Admiralty and had the concept modified to fit their needs. Beginning in late 2188 the group drew up plans for ships with nine 406mm guns, and a hull centered on a central weapon that was capable of traveling two hundred light years between refuels. The plan they all agreed on fulfilled all the requirements the Admiralty were looking for, but the team believed more could be done if the ship was going to be this large; with a mass greater than all other Terran battleships, its armor thick enough to protect it against anything smaller than the heavy cruisers.

Three improved plans were designed and submitted by the beginning of 2189. An increase in armor, an additional twenty 127mm Mark 12 guns in a secondary battery, eighty 40mm CIWS weapon systems for anti-missile protection, thirty-two ports designed to fire the latest W90 variable yield missiles, bays that carry three Mars One " _Comet_ " shuttles and fifteen of the latest autonomous fighters.

This was on top of the primary nine 406mm Mark 7 rail guns.

The design was also the first to carry the new "EM Cannon" system, accelerating a single 6.1m long and .30m diameter tungsten projectile to a speed of 17,000km/s. The system needed to house this weapon became the central core of the new ship, forcing the builders to design everything around it.

All told, when the Safir was completed and commissioned in 2198, the ship came to 861m in length and looked nothing like the traditional warship in the fleet. Instead of a box, the overall shape was more refined. Granted, it still looked a bit boxy, but in profile the vessel was largely sword shaped. A long bow that held the main gun and housed the crew stretched ahead of itself, with two blocky nacelles that hung out to side and angled downward. The "hilt" housed the four powerful power plants that provided energy to the ship and the nearby engines.

At the top of the craft was a large turret that held the Mark 7s, but placed directly below that was the heavily armored bridge that monitored and controlled the ship. It was also designed to act as Command and Control in a fleet.

Carriers replaced the battleship on the oceans of Earth as air combat grew more effective. But space saw the return of the iron giants.

Lu couldn't believe it when she had been given command of it. Everyone in the fleet knew about the ship, it wasn't a secret stealth ship or some kind of experimental vessel. This was intended from the beginning to be a statement of the fleets growing power, what nations on earth used to call "showing the flag."

The list of candidates to command the Safir was a closely guarded secret. You had no idea you were even in the running, and the Admiralty liked it that way. It wasn't until she had taken her previous vessel into dock for a schedule refit that they dropped the news on her six months ago. It had been six months already, six months she was cut off from her friends and family. But it was coming to a close now...

She smiled to herself at the memory, still not believing this was real but happy nonetheless.

"Let's target the drone and see what the guns can do. Helm, align the ship with Tactical's firing solution."

The Safir moved beneath her feat. Captain Lu could feel the vessel shifting as a small amount of power was drained from gravity systems and the main weapon cycled into a ready state. It wasn't the fastest weapon, far from it. The main gun took three minutes to warm up from a cold sleep, and at its recommended fastest the ship could only fire a round every sixty seconds, but it sure packed one hell of a bunch. It was widely thought that the only thing strong enough to stop a round fired from it was whatever poor planet happened to be on the other side of the target. That was why each shell had a small tactical explosive placed inside, designed to destroy the shell thirty minutes after being fired. Having an insanely heavy shell travelling at insanely high velocity in an environment with no resistance power was a terrible idea.

It would slow down the object of course, Newtonian laws ensured that, but at least it would turn a single potentially planet killing weapon into several million harmless pieces.

As the bow of the massive ship aligned with its target, the tactical officer called out, "Thirty seconds until weapons fire."

"Ship is in position," Helm replied.

"Twenty seconds."

MATT picked this moment to finally speak up, the artificial intelligence's synthesized voice coming through loud and clear across the Bridge's speaker system. "Captain Lu, there is an emergency transmission being forwarded to you from Admiral Anderson.

Lu cursed quietly under her breath, and immediately ordered, "Abort firing sequence. MATT, I'll take the message in my office."

This was unexpected. Her orders had been made clear to her only a few days ago; head to Terra Nova and familiarize herself with the ship, test its weapons, and then in three Sol days to link up with the Second Fleet for wargames. It would have to be something important to change weeks of carefully coordinated planning.

She walked into the little office off to the side of the Bridge, the door closing behind her with a soft hiss. Almost as soon as the door shut the Captain could hear security protocols engaging as the doors sealed and all other electronics in the room shut off.

A little panicked, Lu asked, "MATT, what is going on?"

MATT said nothing, instead a blue light projected from a transmitter in the ceiling and coalesced into the form of Admiral Anderson standing before her. The large dark man looked younger than his years would suggest, medical technology keeping him spry and health longer than nature might have intended, but she could still make out the lines of stress on his face and salting of his hair through the nearly perfect hologram.

Most homes had a set up like this, used for watching sporting events or educational programs, but it was largely used for face-to-face communications. The quantum entanglement system had all of its quirks worked out decades ago, and had become the standard method for communication across all of Terran space. The fact that the system was impossible to intercept or tap had been a valuable reason for this rapid roll out, especially among the military, but just because the communications themselves couldn't be directly monitored didn't prevent third parties from planting bugs or other devices in place to eavesdrop, which was why the Safir included an independent security system that disabled all other electronic devices in the room when active, including the AI.

Captain Lu snapped a salute at the Admiral, trying her best to not look as surprised as she felt. This had to be very important for them to go this far.

"At ease, Captain."

As she relaxed the Admiral opened, "I apologize for just dropping in on you like this. I know you were in the middle of something."

"It's all right," Lu assured Anderson. "We were only getting started."

"If you would turn your attention to the data now appearing on your screens," Anderson began as the various consoles embedded in the walls of the room were activated, "you will find a summary of events happening at the colony of Shanxi."

Lu walked over to the nearest screen, read a few lines and audibly gasped. "We've made first contact? Actual aliens?"

Anderson simply nodded and said, "Keep reading."

Her eyes continued to soak up the information, smiling at First Contact, laughing at how the aliens – Quarians – were similar to us and not at the same time. She was fascinated at how they were nomadic, living their lives among the stars in an always moving fleet.

Then she got to Second Contact. The frowned at the second aliens – Turians – tried to order humanity around. Grew angry at the bastards shooting down several human vessels. Proud of humanity valiantly making the invaders bleed for every meter of space they advanced. And then grew irate at the Turian capture of the orbital station and invasion of the planet.

"I hate them already," Lu said.

"According to our reports, the Quarians don't have a home world anymore, but operate from a number of vessels of varying size. From what we gather, they took a massive risk opening that relay because it is against intergalactic law. Law passed and enforced by three races, one of which followed them to our doorstep and launched what they consider a "punitive" assault," Anderson stated.

After a small pause he added, "All of the others species share a form of technology that appears to be completely unique to our own. Not necessarily better than our own, but different. The largest advantage they seem to have over us is their FTL drives can reach slightly higher speeds than our own.

Lu's eyes never left the screen and the information scrolling across it. "Intercepted communications indicate that the Turians believe the Quarians uplifted us? Is that a thing?"

"It's a long story, but apparently one of those three races did it a long time ago and they fear someone else doing it after what happened," Anderson shrugged. "Regardless of the reason for their attack, we can't allow them to continue this assault."

The Captain nodded more to herself than anyone else, "Just tell me my orders."

Anderson frowned, "I can see you are roaring to go, and I'm right there with you, but this is a First Contact situation that needs to be handled carefully."

She could feel her nose flare at the words not spoken. The politicians were holding the military's hands on this one, and were likely watching carefully. Nobody wanted to be held responsible for escalating what might be contained to a small incident into a total war.

"If our fleet suddenly appears on top of them, we could be perceived as a threat and cause the Turians to hold the planet and its people hostage. This is a rescue mission as much as anything, and those people on the surface are our top priority," Anderson stated.

Lu locked eyes with the Admiral as he continued, "You will met up with 64th Task Force of 2nd Fleet, who will then accompany you to the borders of the Zhusanjiao System to join up with the local force. Then I want the Safir to go in first to attempt to draw them out."

Uncertainty flashed briefly across Lu's face. She quickly squared her shoulders, accepting the Admiral's challenge. "How best might we do that?" she asked.

"I'm sure you'll think of something, Captain." Anderson grinned, his grin just got wider and more vicious. She should be worried if she was his enemy... "More details are available in the file I just sent you. And remember Captain, nothing is too crazy for us humans."

Lu crossed her arms and grinned back. Ever since the Terran Federation was formed and started fielding ships, the military had been preparing for something like this. "First Contact" was one of several possible military situations that was studied in the Academy, and traditionally a mission like this would be handled by one of the fleets smaller, less threatening ships so as to not provoke a hostile response.

It was always believed that First Contact would be a range, between long distance probes or at best between small craft that were out exploring. The likely hood of a violent encounter on this scale was considered so small that the Academy didn't give it serious consideration. Her instructor once said, "In the event of a physical First Contact, we shall either be so far above the aliens that they would see us as Gods, or we would be so far below them that we would be like ants. Either way, there would be nothing we could do."

The idea of a hostile First Contact against aliens that shared parity was thought impossible.

"Very well, Admiral," Lu said. "I'll need an hour to confer with my crew before we depart."

Anderson frowned, but not at her. To Lu, it looked as if he was listening to someone speaking in his ear, and he wasn't happy about it. When he finally spoke, it sounded forced. "Captain, I am to remind you that this is a classified mission."

Lu nodded, but said, "I understand, but respectfully to whomever is listening, this won't stay classified for long. It's too big. Too important."

"This should be interesting," Anderson smiled.

"I assume we'll be monitored, and kept apprised of changing circumstances," Lu asked the Admiral.

The Admiral nodded. "Just in case. Captain Lu, do us proud."

With a sharp nod the image departed, leaving her in darkness for two seconds before power to everything was restored. A blinking icon of "new message" was seen on the holo screen. It was the report sent by the Admiral. Skimming through it, she mused:

"Well, this is going to be an interesting briefing."


	15. Chapter 12

**And... I'm back!**

 **Finally, having all of my exams done and stuff like that. Knowing that I pass one and fail one so far... It was not the best but hey, that's university for you.**

 **On another note, thanks for your support my wonderful readers. Despite having no "real" update for nearly a month, I still have a lot of read count as well as new follow and favourite. That warms my heart greatly.**

 **This is my latest chapter, over 6500 words, some ideas are corporated by CPT Reynolds - he is also the one who has been editing my story so far. Everyone, stand up and give him a toast! Long live the Cap!**

 **:)**

* * *

 **general-joseph-dickson: Thanks for your support**

 **Jarreas: An alumi of an university speaking his words of wisdom?**

 **HyperionATLAS: Ahhh, so you are in high school or college? Both are suck, trust me. Terrible, but necessary...**

 **CPT Reynolds: I, the grateful one, salute you! Thanks for your wonderful help on my story :)**

 **grey [guest]: I'll think the human would tell the alien to f*** off from the next chapter, by serious action, of course. I originally plan to have that in this chapter (the first version) but then decided against it**

 **Aramus13: Thanks for your much appreciated reviews. You have no idea how your reviews warm my heart**

 **DovahCheese: Well, I just take the most "impressive" tweet as captured by 9gag. It gave me a good laugh anyway (and thanks God/Buddha/Jade Emperor that I'm neither British or American)**

 **Chronus1326: So far, I've made rip off from Babylon 5, and Dawn of war: Soulstorm. I haven't gotten any "good" quotes from Fallout to make a reference here**

 **Nippelgunz: Now you got it mate :)**

* * *

 **'Counter attack' - Morning, Day 2**

 **Location:**  
Northern Suburb of the Administrative District  
Zhen Zhu (Contested)  
Shanxi, Zhusanjiao system (Occupied)

 **Time:**  
January 30, 2200 (Terran calendar) - March 15, 2727 (Galactic calendar)  
0638 (Earth time) - 1414 (Galactic standard)

The sun was rising on their left. Some early rays seen over the horizon, lighting the northern side of the city, or, to be more precise, reveal the rubble of what once was the capital city of the colony. Ash, fire, burnt concrete and rubble were all that they saw. Stretching from one side of their visual range to the other. The city of Zhen Zhu, once nominated as the most eco-friendly city of the whole Frontier Colonies, was nothing but a ruin now. They ground their teeth, suppressing the rage inside them, but calmed themselves. Haste would do them no good at the moment.

Calm was what a sniper needed.

This team had a mission of disrupting Turian operations as much as possible, and that was why they were hiding in the ruins of a building with their own ghillie suits. The varying greys and browns, preventing them from being spotted by the Turian patrol. In addition, they also had a thermal shielding suit, keeping them away from the prying infrared sensors of the corvettes ahead. For a sniper, staying hidden, watching over the target, and waiting for a chance to strike were all drilled into you during training. Such was the decree of every sniper in the Terran Federation Armed Forces.

That, and be sure to be using the proper weapon for the situation.

Such a rule was being followed now, with the sniper team were carrying two .50cal sniper rifles, plenty of ammunition, and a comm back to HQ to call in artillery and air strikes. With this equipment, they were capable of fighting off any enemy formations, ranging from a small patrol to an armoured column at up to 12000 meters away. Though if they were honest with themselves, they preferred fighting the former.

Today, their assignment was to cover the advance of the "Sucker Punch" team. Spot and neutralise any sentries in the area, on the enemy's flank and paint any targets with their laser designator to let the arty guys know they were needed.

Peering through the scope, the sniper, call Sign: Viper-2, saw a small fireteam of Turians troopers. All of them seemed to be alert, but one was leaning against an ash-covered wall. He looked... sleepy if the rhythm nodding of his head was a reliable way to confirm. Viper-2 adjusted his rifle accordingly. Distance: 830 meters; elevation: -35 degrees; wind: 0.3m per second, west to east... All the data was given by his spotter, with a high-resolution spotter scope, lying next to him.

"Set," Viper-2 said.

"Command, this is Viper-1, we are set to go." The spotter, spoke softly into his microphone. Per standard operating procedures, the signal was heavily encrypted, and only the appropriate receiver equipment, with the correct decryption algorithms, could turn the electric signal into something discernible.

The voice from Command, either General William or his Executive Officer, was heard on the radio, "Copy that. Operation is to commence in sixty seconds on my mark. Mark."

The signal was silent after that, and he figured it was to prevent the Turians triangulating either position. Moreover, the soldiers involved in the operation would probably welcome a few seconds to themselves, either to calm themselves or to reflect on why they fought and who they were fighting for.

Viper-2's mind was suddenly filled with a faint scent of lavender, which was his girlfriend's favourite shampoo scent. Three weeks ago, they had been planning to spend his first liberty weekend together. However, First Contact with the Quarians had pulled him off the R&R roster. His girlfriend had seemed put off about it, but she understood. She was loving a soldier after all, and things like that were practically the norm. A soldier could be deployed at any moment, he or she was at the beck and call of their commanding officer. Moreover, his life was always, always on the line.

For the last one hundred years, Humanity not taken part in any major military engagement, but the mentality remained, especially when people were killed due to the remnants of old conflicts. Unexploded mines and ordnance or chemical and radiation lingering in the air. There were even cases of some highly unfortunate accidents during training.

The lives of soldiers could be... short, for the lack of a better word...

"Operation commences in ten seconds," the robotic voice inside his hard suit reported, waking him from his train of thought. The countdown with a feminine voice began "Three... two... one... Mark."

As soon as the last word was said, Viper-2 squeezed the trigger, sending a .50cal High Velocity - High Explosive round downrange.

However, instead of hitting the sleepy Turian trooper, he aimed for another target. The enemy may or may not have his "shield" turned on, and Viper-2 could not risk the operation here. It took a full 14.5mm anti-material round to deplete (or at least severely drain) that blue shield, his .50cal was... insufficient for that job.

However, what he had aimed at was the balcony the Turians had been standing on.

The bullet hit the structure near where the Turians was standing guard. The concrete balcony, already weakened in the previous day's bombardment, was drilled through, and a hole appeared under the unlucky Turians' feet. The soldiers fell though, falling three stories. The end result was not... pretty.

"Structure destroyed. Targets: neutralized," Viper-1 reported.

He would have to change his vantage point soon. It was never safe to stay in the same place for more than a few shots, and he wanted to survive this fight. Viper-2, while listening to the report by Viper-1, reloaded his rifle, chambering a new round. Quickly, his teammate told him about a new target. "Enemy light vehicle spotted. Lower left, by the ruined fuel station. Range: 800, -35 degrees, 0.2 west. Confirm?"

"Confirm. Target sighted."

"Fire when ready."

Viper-2 looked through the scope, a bunch of _crows_ , probably alerted due to the crumbling sound of concrete in the morning, and was screaming out of the few buildings. There were five of them, gunning towards the jeep-like vehicle. That vehicle could be trouble for the sniper team. If they were spotted by these bastards, they would likely be hunted down. Light, mobile and equipped with a heavy weapon, no sane sniper would take it head-on. That meant, they had to take it down quickly.

Three enemy combatants had already made it to the vehicle. Viper-2 had to give them credit; they was fast and disciplined. Not even the Army could boast such efficiency. The enemy here was not some kind of gung-ho bastards, they were professional. Real professional.

Pressing down the rising worry inside, Viper-2 squeezed the trigger again. The thundering sound boomed again. This time, the bullet sped toward the vehicle, hitting the hood (or something a human would call a hood) with a bright spark. There were no report from his teammates, yet, which was worrying. Was something going on?

"Target... neutralised. Vehicle appears disabled. Enemy combatants are alive."

As Viper-2 trained back his scope on the target, he saw bright sparks and black smoke coming out of a seemingly intact jeep. Keeping his scope on the disables vehicle, he also saw a giant hole on the front of the car and something blue-ish was coming out.

Huh?

A sudden bright blue explosion that consumed the whole vehicle, making the sniper to close his eye. When the light died down, Viper-2 was dumb-struck at the scene. The vehicle was burnt up, somehow, with ash covering it. The hovering feature (how did they made that was beyond his comprehension) was gone, with the car lying dead on the ground with smoke rising from it. Inside, the passengers, for the lack of a better word, had disappeared. Viper-2 stared at the scene, dumbfounded. How did they disappear?

The hesitant voice of Viper-1 quickly confirmed his question. "Amend: enemy combatants... neutralised. Enemy vehicle has some kinds of explosive hazard components. Unknown mechanism. Over"

"...This is Command. Understood. Sucker Punch is moving into position. Do you have visual? Over."

The sniper team trained their sight toward the road, and there they were, the Sucker Punch team. Five grey metallic suits... No, it were five grey _robotic_ suits, all armed to the teeth. Just a glance at them was enough for the snipers to know that the Turians were about to have some serious problems knocking on their door. There was enough firepower to mow down a full-strength company, for _each_ of those suits.

Each suit was nearly 2.5 meters in height, with a color–scheme similar to the ODSTs. When those suits came with a lot of firepower... Just like many weapon systems of the Terran Federation, the robotic suit, refer as JAEGER Armor Defense System, had built-in rails and mounts, allowing it to be very ergonomic.

The first man in the column, designated as "Puncher-1" in his HUD, was armed with a 105mm recoilless rifle, capable of destroying light armoured units and buildings. On _each_ of his hands were double-barrel machine guns that fired 7.62x51mm rounds. Looking at the suit's heavy pack, Viper-2 thought that this lone man had enough ammunition to host a Unification Day firework show on his own.

The second suit also had a weapon attached to his shoulder and some light machine guns on the arms. However, instead of a 105mm cannon, this one was equipped with a Vulture gun and a giant ammunition pack on its back. That, Viper-2 knew for sure, was the most impressive piece of death on the soldier. As an upgrade from the M61 Vulcan of the latter half of 20th century, the M161 Vulture, and the M191 variant mounted on the robotic suit, kept the same hydraulic driving system and electrical control system. The caliber it fired was still the same, 20x102mm. However, the upgrades made it... _a bit_ more threatening.

The first upgrade was the reload procedure. Controlled by the computer and activated by the user's command, the ammunition type could be changed from the standard Semi-Armor Piercing High Explosive Incendiary (SAPHEI) to Armor Piercing/Incendiary (API) for light armoured vehicle units, or FI (Fragmentation-Incendiary) for when facing infantry. With a rate of fire of 2000 rounds per minute, a gun like that was sufficient to clear out any resistance. The only problem he might have to face was a heavy gunship.

Air threats could be dealt with by Puncher-3, the dedicated mobile anti-air platform of the team. From yesterday's combat report, enemy fighters could act as temporary gunships at low altitude, which would be their own death if they attempted to attack the team. Instead of heavy guns like his two teammates, this suit carried two SAM pods on both shoulder, each carrying no less than twelve missiles. Each was relatively low powered, but combined with the Whirlwind Missile System, they might be able to take down three of four enemy fighters. Of course, Puncher-3 also carried four SPEAR-A missiles on his arms as secondary. These were in case some fighters were able to lose his lock, or if he wanted to test the strength of those floating corvettes for that matter.

While Puncher-3 was dedicated anti-air, Puncher-4 was purely anti-vehicle, with one recoilless rifle on each shoulder, two SPEAR-G missiles on his left arm and an automatic grenade launcher on his right. _That_ , Viper-2 thought, _was how you stop an armoured column, through superior firepower and sheer guts_. One SPEAR missile, "Ground" variant, could either take out or cripple a main battle tank with only one shot. The recoilless rifle carried enough ammunition to render nearly a dozen armoured cars to wreckage. Last but not least, the automatic grenade launcher was the final weapon, to ensure that the enemy stayed dead.

The last member of the team, Puncher-5. Was the "platoon" leader. His suit was the "Jack of all trade" type. Two recoilless rifles on the shoulders, heavy machine gun with a pair of barrels on one arm and automatic grenade launcher on the other. Clearly, he was planned to be a "roamer", assisting his teammates when needed. Interestingly, his grenade launcher seemed to be an upgraded variant of the one equipped on Puncher-4. However, Viper-2 was not exactly sure about this, that gun just seem bulkier and heavier.

Together, these five men packed a lot of firepower, probably more than enough to raze the whole Forward Base of those Turians at the Central Square.

"Viper team, move to Location 4. Assist the advance of Sucker Punch team." The voice of the old man rang again on the net.

Acknowledging the order, Viper-2 looked through the scope a final time before sitting up. He almost felt sorry for the Turians who were about to be the victims of these men.

 _Almost_ being the key word.

Over the horizon, a bright white blue ball was rising...

* * *

The morning for the Turians began with the thundering sounds of explosions, gunfire, screams, and curses.

The old _Centurion_ snapped his eyes open as soon as the first explosions arrived. As an experienced officer of the Turian Armed Forces, he quickly got up and pulled out a hand gun from under his pillow. He knew the gunfire meant they were under attack, and he glanced around the room, which was nice and cozy by human standards, was not far off from a Turian one. This room that was somewhat intact after yesterday bombardment and it was the only one on the east side of the Central Square.

He had been assigned a room like this because of being a commander while his men had to stay outside in the mud... At least he turned down the first offer, a room which was more akin to a king's chamber than a normal bedroom. He despised any commander being far off from his men...

The _Centurion_ silently opened the door in case of enemies nearby. Looking through the gap of the door, he sighed quietly with relief. This house was still safe, somewhat. A soldier... no, a mid-rank commander, an _Optio_ , was running toward the door. They looked... tired, stressed, but ready for combat. That was good enough for him.

Opening the door and watching the man coming toward him, he yelled out, "Report!"

The _Optio_ , very young for his position, yet seem highly competent, stood straight and saluted him. The report was delivered despite the heavy breathing of the young man. He was impressed, he failed to do that at this man's age.

"Sir, we have a message from _Centurion_ Nidus of the Fifth Cohort, stationed on the northern side of the Square. He reported the attack of... robotic suits, sir."

What? Robotic suits? The Hierarchy had them too. But those weapon systems, according to the rumours, were still in development stage and were sent to the elite force - Blackwatch - only. If the news about human's robotic suit was truth, then were their special forces here already? It fit. One of their colonies had just been invaded, and they would send more men to defend it. Spirits, with the fanaticism he saw yesterday, he almost half-heartily hoped that they would send better men into the grinder...

Taking a deep breath, the _Centurion_ considered the situation briefly. His Cohort, or what remained of it, was stationed in the Central Square, along with the remnants of the Mechanised Cohort. Both units were hit hard yesterday and they were exhausted. Casualty rates were over 40%, and it would take a new wave of replacements to bolster their strength, which would be a real problem. They were in unfriendly territory and reinforcements would not be here until tomorrow at the earliest.

The only possible comforting news was that, these human robotic suits might still have some operational problems, like those still being worked on by the Hierarchy, but he knew better than to assume anything anymore when it came to these humans. He gave orders to deploy heavy weaponry and began calling in gunships, and the five frigates over the city. He hoped that would be sufficient do deal with this incoming threat.

He had just switched to the Navy's frequency when another soldier ran in, panting and with fear creeping into his voice. "Sir, we lost one of the frigates… The humans, they took down a frigate!"

As soon as he finish his words, the ground shook violently. It felt like an earthquake, with the lights overhead flickering and going dark. The tables, chairs danced while the helves near him either fell, while from the outside, bright rays of light were coming through the tinted windows. The _Cencurion_ steadied himself, despite being older than the others in the room, until the shaking stopped after several more seconds.

The hallway was barely lit now, with most of the house was now filled with darkness, the dawn having yet to shine upon the interior of the house. The second soldier, fingers on his knees, grunting, "Well, that would be those two frigates going down. At least the crews were able to drive them out of the city... The others are unable to provide support, sir, saying the area is too hot..."

Cursing to himself and looking up at the ceiling, he briefly wondered what else could go wrong...

A series of thundering explosions were heard, but this time, they came from the motor pool, where a good part of the Mechanised Cohort's equipment was housed.

"Spirits..."

* * *

The situation Puncher-1 found himself in could be described as chaotic, which was normal, considering they were wearing robotic suits.

Upon entering the ruined city, and out of sight of the sniper team, they were now effectively on their own. Moments passed in silence, with no enemy in sight or on sensors. With the suits furnished with the most state-of-the-art dampening equipment, the path they were on was one of the emptiest available.

Reaching the "danger zone", enemy patrols were seen, and the attack order was issued. Wasting no time, Puncher-3 targeted the nearest corvette on the sky, unleashing a whirlwind of missiles. A full pod of miniature missiles and two anti-air missiles sped toward the unlucky ship. Everyone expected some minor damage on the ship's hull, but every single missile zoned in on a single position near the stern of the vessel. A giant blue ball of flame quickly erupted out of the damaged area, engulfing the entire ship, much to the shock of everyone.

It was strange. The ship should have been able to hold against that kind of barrage, so what kind of ship had armour that was less than something equivalent to 2.5 meters of steel? For God's sake, even the armour on a corvette had been equivalent to at least 3 meters of steel.

The laser turrets could be seen clearly on the belly of the ship, had stayed silent and failed to stop any of the incoming missiles. It could have been because the five man team was too close for comfort. That was the best answer Puncher-1 could think of at the moment. His ancestor had to deal with an enemy that used similar tactics when he fought. His army had superior firepower and air support, which should deter the enemy. However, the enemy decided to strike them as close as possible, rendering the advantage ineffective.

While it may have been...costly at times, the tactics had been refined with the help of robotic suits. With these, he did not have to fear of being killed by a sniper with standard small arm, but he also knew that these suits were not invincible, and not to take unnecessary risks.

Of course, they were serving as the distraction to assist the second prong of the attack. General Williams wanted to plant a freaking nuclear bomb under their feet. It was... insane, but it was fitting... Humanity had been through a several decades where nuclear weapons were threatened to be used on a constant basis, and one time where they had been used openly.

The trail of smoke on the sky had revealed his team's position, and the thundering explosion and the burning ship had ensured that all enemy forces in the area were now wide awake. Utilising the confusion, the team targeted a group of enemy soldiers that were hiding behind a concrete wall, before they unleashed a barrage of fire. From the "taps" of the 7.62mm light machine guns, to the loud "bangs" of the 12.7mm heavy machine gun and the "booms" of the 20mm autocannon... The enemy was simply _vaporised_ under the brutal attack.

The sounds of footsteps were heard, and they knew the enemy was mobilising in response them. Good, this was his job. They were the distraction for the infiltration team whose objective was to plant the nuke under the aliens' noses. They just had to make sure that they continued to focus on them, which was not going to be difficult.

The team continued to move forward, aiming for the central square. While moving, a red indicator appeared on his HUD, identifying an incoming threat coming from above. It was a lone enemy soldier carrying a "standard" rifle, or at least something resemblance that. Training took over for Puncher-1, raising his right arm. The cross hairs of the LMG quickly aligned with the silhouette of the enemy, and he quickly fired. The gun let loose a long burst of Fragmentation - Incendiary - Tracer (FIT) 7.62x51mm, hitting the shield, making it flare up.

He briefly wondered if these aliens were Protoss, but then quickly dismissed it. They were using guns, not psy blades. These were real aliens, not ones created from an old game. Moreover, if these aliens were actually Protoss, he should have heard strange voices in his head by now.

The rate of fire was over 1800 rounds per minute, and quickly destroyed the shield, allowing the next several bullets to hit the target. Despite wearing some kind of armour (if the metal-looking suit was a good identification), it seemed that there was nothing to stop the bullets, and they just went straight through the poor soldier's body, before he fell to the ground.

The column continued to move forward, shooting anyone stupid enough to get out of cover and destroying any cover being used. They cut a vicious line through the Turian defenses, from the north. What opposition they encountered was light, with the weaponry they were using having no effect on them, while the heavy weapon crews were simply not fast enough in deploying their weaponry before being killed. Both Puncher-1 and Puncher-5, were equipped for an anti-infantry role, virtually pushed a full company back all by themselves.

Light machine guns light up the air with tracer rounds, masking their deadly content in a beautiful lightshow. Fragmentation rounds shredded upon impact on enemy shields, further weaken them. Incendiary rounds, for some reason, seemed to demoralize the enemy. Puncher-5 had already mentioned something about burnt marks on enemy dead bodies, and the ones that were wounded by incendiary rounds after their barriers had been hit. He was surprised because, he wondered what kind of shield that incapable of blocking heat?

He that information logged so that others could make use of it later. It was a hunch, but it may prove useful in the future. Who knew? Humanity had made many improvements and advances simply on gut feeling.

"P-One: P-Four here. ETA to the Square is ten minutes. Recommend switching to anti-armour weaponry. Over."

"P-Four, this is P-One. Recommendation approved. All members, switch to anti-armour weaponry, and be prepared to move to cover."

The short conversation was made admist the chaos of battle. Puncher-2 directed his M191 at a concrete wall and obliterated it, along with a full squad of Turian soldiers hiding behind it. A 14.5x114mm round was enough to depleted a fully-charged shield in a single shot, while the results of a 20x102mm round would be somewhere between "messy" and "annihilated". Puncher-1, receiving a report from Puncher-3, and aimed his recoilless rifle toward a window on the third floor of the building in front of him. The enemy had already turned it into a stronghold, and the answer to this problem was simple: a 105mm HE-I round.

A shell left the barrel, and a few seconds later, a bright flash was came from inside the room, quickly followed by an explosion and then smoke from the third floor. The enemy stronghold was destroyed, and the building, unfortunately, crumbled under its own weight. Puncher-1 grimaced. It seemed like he overdid the attack here, a 105mm round seemed too much, and he would probably have to use some of the lighter artillery rounds. Around him, the sounds and tracers of the strange weaponry were fading while the sounds of the Terran weaponry began to overwhelm them.

"Target destroyed. Forward, team."

Just like that, they moved forward, taking in reports of new enemy positions and dealing with them with high efficiency. The only thing helped them to do that was their vigorous training, which some would consider almost abusive. It was painful, but it finally paid off, especially when they were fighting against filthy alien invaders.

"Target: infantry! Left!"

The warning of his robotic suit warned him about another group of enemies on their left. Puncher-1 raised his left arm up and squeezed the trigger. A ray of light was formed, quickly claiming the lives of the invading Turians. Poor bastards. Some had died with eyes open. Grimacing, he continued to go pass the last hastily-built barricade. This was war, and there was nothing fanciful or wonderful about it. In boot camp, philosophy was taught. Back then, he had wondered why since everybody complained about it, but now he understood. War was hell, and there was no way to get around it.

Glancing to the side, he saw even more destruction. Buildings that were now reduced to just their skeletons. Rebar, once used to reinforce the strength of concrete, was now splattered with the flesh of the Turians. The ground, once covered with either beautiful lawn of green grass and flowers, was now soaked with blue blood. That would change soon enough...

Grunting, he pushed himself forward, clearing out enemy positions on the way. His teammates covered each other's advance, making sure no one was killed. Their teamwork, polished under the rough training and the fire of combat, helped them accomplish this with relative ease. However, they always remained vigilant for and flanking attack or sniper. What few attacks that did happen were quickly taken care of with their superior firepower.

Gradually, the five-men team finally reached the Central Square, now a motor pool for the enemy. What they saw was not pretty. A row of enemy vehicles was laid out before them. Some were jeep-like, some were akin to Armoured Personnel Carrier (APC) or Infantry Fighting Vehicle (IFV). There was even a few here. This was some fearsome firepower, or it would be. Puncher-4 and Puncher-5 were ready to remedy the problem.

It was Number 4 who opened up with his dual recoilless rifles, each aimed at a tough-looking vehicle. A split second later, giant fireballs consumed two tank-like vehicles, engulfing some kind of maintenance equipment stored in boxes underneath them. Puncher-1 winced at that. It seemed that the technical crew of this unit just spent the whole night for nothing. They received a banged up series of combat vehicles yesterday afternoon, spent the whole night fixing them up, only for him to blow sky high.

Poor bastards. He would take off his head to show proper respect if this was not a warzone.

A few red diamonds popped up in his HUD, prompting the leader to deal with them using his hand held machine guns. It looked like these Turians were in a really mad for him destroying their vehicles. It was understandable, really. It was their vehicles after all.

Among the smoke and fire, a vehicle warmed up, and started to point its main gun toward his team. The HUD showed this new threat by bringing up more indicators, and this promptly made the entire crew to scatter. It was just in time, as a blue orb of light, almost plasma-like, was fired out from the barrel of the tank, slamming into the ground where Puncher-2 was only moments ago. The crater was deep enough to almost reach the robotic suit's knee.

His teammates retaliated by unleashing a long burst from their autocannons. The ammunition of SAPHEI rounds with the help of triple-barrel and automatic shooting mode quickly pushed the barriers of the tank to the limit, and the enemy tank commander appeared to be either in shock or fear by these strange weapons. He didn't even fire another round; moreover, the M191 also cut through all kinds of cover and obstacles that were being used by the Turian soldiers. The damage dealt on the enemy was extensive. Explosions and fragments filled the air, with smoke reducing visibility for each side. While this was a handicap for the invaders, the five men of the Terran Federation had no such problem. Their Jaeger suits had already been equipped with an infrared view, allowing them to see the heat through the smoke, and the systems were able to differentiate the fires from the living.

With the FLIR (Forward Looking InfraRed) cameras turned on, the enemy of mankind was seen clearly. The vehicle was still not destroyed, despite being hit by a salvo from the suits, prompting Puncher-1 to order number 4 to give it a missile. The missile was fired and the tank-like vehicle was quickly destroyed. A bright white ball of light was seen on each of the suit's HUDs, signaling the end of the troublesome vehicle. More explosions followed and rendered the mechanised force of the enemy useless. Some pieces of debris were blasted up in the air, not landing on the ground until a few moments had passed.

They could now report that the enemy would now have no working vehicles to fight with from this depot, and they knew that the Old Man would love to hear this. With the loss of these vehicles, the mobility of the aliens would be greatly reduced.

Puncher-1 grinned savagely thinking about it. The humans removed one of the invader's aces, and it was just Day 2.

Guns were still blazing and smoke still filled up the square. The Turians were still scared and seemed unable to locate his team. However, Sucker Punch could do that with relative ease, though it wouldn't last long. They would eventually get their act together, and Murphy's Law could still come into effect here. Turians hiding or those that crawled too closed were greeted by a burst of grenades from Puncher-5. Though he was also overdoing it, as usual. Each time he fired, at least five grenade left the barrel, dealing an excessive amount of damage when only one or two would have been necessary. Poor bastards, either way.

The combined firepower of the Sucker Punch team was able to wreck a Turian mechanised force, and using every weapon system from the MGs to the recoilless rifles; the autocannon and the last of the tank-buster missiles. In three minutes, the guns never stopped firing, and the spent cases were scattered across the ground where the Punchers stood, the brass tubes smoking and dropping in a constant stream, with a clink for every one that hit the ground. Each shot fired claimed an enemy's life.

The losses of the enemy were tremendous, with at least 80 killed and unknown number of injured. That was not counting the loss of the enemy motorised force or other loss elsewhere. The spaceport was still under siege by snipers and the Children's Square would be dealt with within the day. The odds, it seemed, were leaning towards the humans...

At precisely that point, a flash of warning appeared on his HUD. [Low ammunition.]

He bit down a curse. His recoilless rifles had already been out of ammunition since before the Turian "tank" became active, and the reserves for his machine gun had just over 500 hundreds round left. For four barrels, it was barely anything...

His teammates were also reporting the same situation. Puncher-3 and 4, being anti-vehicle platform, had already expended their missiles, and their guns for fighting in closed range would run dry in a few moments. Puncher-2's 20mm autocannon had already stopped firing, its barrel was still smoking after the constant usage in the last hour. The guns mounted on his teammate's arm were not much better, all of them were on the last burst. Puncher- 5 seemed to be the luckiest among them all, while still had a long burst of grenade left.

Then, a report came via the 'net. "Sucker Punch, fallback via Route Tango Four. I repeat, Tango Four. Acknowledge."

"This is Puncher-1, Acknowledge. Fallback on Route Tango Four. Over."

That was not good news. Team Dagger had failed to plan the nuke, and that meant that they would have to clear out the enemy the old fashion way.

Clearing out every single structure one by one.

Shite.

* * *

 **First, let me wish you Happy Lunar New Year! May luck, prosperity and success smile upon you. The New year (Year of the Chicken) stands for these following, according to the source I found**

 **\- Being punctual, on time**

 **\- Being ordinary and soft**

 **\- Exorcism**

 **\- Bravery and strong-will**

 **May you find the best of luck in the new year**

* * *

 **For anyone interested, the robotic suits used in this chapter are similar to the HRUNTING/YGGDRASIL Mark I Prototype Armor Defense System (as seen in _Halo: Prototype_ ). While the weapons and appearance are just slightly difference, the _Jaeger_ in my chapter had much weaker jet packs and, in general, less _juice_.**

* * *

 **I just watched the anime Nejimaki Seirei Senki Tenkyou no Alderamin recently. It was... wow... just... the storyline and characters were well-developed. It was a pity that the anime (and manga) had yet to catch up with the Light novel (for good reasons - seems like it was pretty grim dark in the next volumes of the series). I suggest you guys to try this anime, pretty good.**

* * *

 **Last edit on 31 January 2017. Credit goes to CPT Reynolds**


	16. Chapter 13

**Haiz, having my hair cut on Monday to receive a cold gale for the rest of the week. I should have kept my old hair, it was just "slightly long" with the tip of my ears getting "covered". The drain in the bathroom got stuck, and I'm always lazy enough to slack off cooking and washing the dishes (I still to these two jobs anyway, I'm too young to die of starvation, and I'm too poor).**

 **And now, in college, I have (or should...) join the first year in a single subject for three months. I have to retake CAD (computer-aided design) for the last year. Somehow, it was about the blueprint's symbols - and I completely failed it last year. I must pay more attention this time around (and try to ask if I can know where I messed up...)**

* * *

 **Aramus13: The "robotic suits" in the last chapter are not exactly Mecha per se. They were just "suits" wearing outside. Granted, they are made from metal and armed with guns, but they are not "mecha" yet. Think about the suit appeared in the show/clip/video Halo: Prototype. I picked up my inspiration from that. Regarding Mechas, they will come later (after the Turian is dealt with)**

 **Skepsis Forever: Thanks for your review. The action of the Turian commanders (the _bad_ ones, at least) will be explained later in my story**

 **Touhoufanatic: Thanks for your review**

* * *

 **On another note, this is the new chapter, enjoy :)**

 **Reference to three other franchise, some are extremely overt, some... not so.**

* * *

 **'Counter attack' - Day 2**

 **Location:**  
Underground sewer system - Eastern section  
Zhen Zhu city  
Planet Shanxi  
Zhusanjiao system

 **Time:**  
January 30, 2200 (Terran Calendar) - March 15, 2727 (Galactic calendar)  
06h55 (Earth time) - 14h31 (Galactic standard)

 **Unit:**  
Vahalla Fireteam  
RAINBOW Task Force

It was pitch black underground, the lightning system was disabled thanks to the bombing. The electrical substation had been reduced to ash in the very first hour of the attack, plunging the entire system into darkness. However, it suited the team just fine. They were used to the dark, for they were the predator on the hunt, not the prey waiting to be killed.

They were a part of RAINBOW, elite and highly-trained special operation soldiers. They were capable of tasks deemed too risky and too dangerous for regular military and law enforcement: from hostage rescue and counter insurgency, to deep penetration operations and the escorting of sensitive material and personnel. For example: the planning a nuclear bomb under the alien invader's arses.

The leader, call sign: "Warmth", grimaced under the mask. Just like her great-great-great grandfather, she was tasked with the role of pointman due to her ability to spot a threat before it became a problem, either behind the wall or hiding in the dark. Of course, while he had used a "heart-beat sensor", she was had a custom built holographic eyepiece, with built-in infrared/night-vision capabilities. Thanks to that, she could see the enemy before they could see her, and come up with correlated plans. This piece of equipment had helped her greatly during the many training sessions she had taken part in, except when her comrades were hiding behind thick enough cover to hide their signature.

Behind her was the hulking shadow of "Orge", the shield carrier of the team, always staying close with the other lead members and cover them with his ballistic shield. The said shield was also another improvement made by the very own operator. From the front, the enemy would see nothing but a pitch black surface. It looked like a crude joke from the EU-born special force soldier. However, the back of the shield was another story. It was partially transparent, allowing him to watch the enemy with his view unobstructed, and as a result, he had been able to spot the traps laid out by _Huntress_ and _Nitro_ while still covering his team's advance.

Last in line and tasked with the job of the carrier was "Sera", a girl that no one wanted to mess with. Partially because of her insane strength and talent in close-quarters combat, and also because of her teacher/mentor. He was, for all intent and purposes a meta-human, or a super-human as some soldiers had called them. While most (if not all) humans had already been treated with genetic and bio-chemical treatment to further enhance themselves and to adapt better on new colonies to some degree, soldiers received extra enhancements to boost their capabilities. Reduced rate of dehydration, faster and more efficient rate of converting food to energy, denser muscle mass... It was basically human 1.5 as someone had already joked about it.

Sera and her mentor ramped it up to Level 11 and Level _12_. Warmth almost felt bad for the Turians to feel her fists up close. Almost.

Despite not glancing back, Warmth could faintly see the oval metallic case of the tactical nuclear bomb hanging on Sera's back. Codenamed "ANT" for some reason (no one had been able to decipher the acronym), it was one of the most numerous weapons in humanity's arsenal. Weighing twenty kilograms, this baby boasted a "humble" yield of 15 kilotons, and her NBC training, had shown her that this type was meant for "clean" and "efficient" explosion.

People clearly did not know that "normal" nuclear weapons had been already been designed to limit fallout and residual radiation. Then again, thermonuclear did sound "cooler" than nuclear, and she enjoyed having flashy toys in her arsenal (especially when those toys could go Ka-Boom). In addition, the National Security Council also wanted to spend their money on... newer equipment, "Tactical Weapon of Mass Destruction" was one of those.

A muffled voiced came over on the radio.

"Orge to Warmth. Sucker Punch team is launching their diversionary attack. We should proceed post haste. They might not be able to hold the line for long enough."

"Warmth to Orge. Negative. We're moving at best possible speed. There are also exposed area along the tunnel, and I don't want any unnecessary attention."

"Orge to Warmth. Roger."

The trio continued to move forward with quiet steps. Silence came back to the unit, but it was not the "calm" type, it was more on the scale of eerie and deadly. Combined with the presence of a nuke, near-total darkness and a bunch of aliens overhead, their mental strain was at the limit.

Their combat suits they wore, were a real wonder to behold. From late 20th century, countries around the world had been trying to upgrade the battle dress uniforms to increase the survivability and combat ability for their soldiers. First was bullet proof vest, made from composite material. It was heavy and uncomfortable at first but at least it could save any soldier from most calibre rounds. Then came the integrated combat system, with computers, sensors, radio and even a water filter, allowing soldiers to have a better chance of survival in combat, even if they were stuck behind enemy lines. Later, the exoskeletons, along with the lighter and heavier variants called hard suits and robotic suits, appeared. They were real game changer for the military.

Since their appearance, soldiers had greater chance of survival against the dangers of Nuclear-Biological-Chemical attacks, up to a certain degree at least. They could still be killed if they stood in "ground zero" or if the substance was capable of eroding the suits, but humans now could calmly walk into a "dead zone" without running the risk of being infected or killed, as long as they took the proper precautions. The bullet proof feature was preserved, and while the soldiers would still feel the impact from the rounds (and each would receive anything between a nasty bruise and a cracked rib), he would still be alive unless got hit by heavy weaponry, like a 12.7x99mm round.

These soldiers were no different. The suits they were wearing was an upgraded version of the "line combat" variant. While the specifications were still the same, each suit was tailor-made for a specific RAINBOW operator to maximise comfort. In addition, their suits came with more pouches and pockets, allowing them to carry more ammunition, equipment and "specialty tools". While these were just gimmicks, Warmth knew that there were regular soldiers wished lustfully for a suit like this.

Well, too bad for them. The best tool was reserved for the best soldier.

Silently moving along the darkened corridor, Warmth thanks to whoever her family prayed to (she was an atheist) that the hard suit came with a sealed mask. The smell in a sewer would be... terrible, but thankfully, under the mask, she smelt nothing. In fact, she got the faint fragrance of jasmine inside her suit. She was a lady, and she must have her own standard of course! A brute like Sera or the... man like Orge may not care about their smell after an operation (they always say that they would visit the shower anyway), but for Warmth, smelling... nice was something of high priority.

Suddenly, the ceiling above her trembled, making the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Something was wrong, her gut was telling her so. Were the Turians in the sewer? Did they receive reinforcements? Had they found a bunker in the city and had begun the bombardment?

Holding a fist up and kneeling on one leg, she signaled the team to stop for a short break. The other two must have felt it too, because they also glanced up toward the ceiling. Something was wrong... very wrong... Warmth became increasingly worried, then in front of her, just over 20 meters and at the corner, were rays of light...

Dread, fear and doubt quickly filled her mind. The Turians must had already anticipated this route of attack. The element of surprise was about to be lost. The amount of light suggested there were at least five men in that patrol. Each was probably equipped with shield and their fancy-looking guns, not to mention other tools like grenades and knifes. In addition, the tunnel section she was staying in was straight, and there was simply no place to hide, no cover to ultilise.

They were trapped inside. Nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide... They had to fight.

"Down. Ambush."

Issuing quick orders to her teammates, she quickly laid face down on the ground. Considering that "down" meant laying in a stream of dirty water and human's waste... She wanted a raise in her pay. She was paid to perform counter-terrorist operations, but putting her face in a pile of... crap was not something that you usually did for those kinds of operations. However, in order to do so, she had get out alive first.

Aiming her gun downrange, and activating her holographic eyepiece, a cross hair appeared on her HUD, targeting the faint heat spot coming from behind the corner. So these aliens were not equipped with any heat dissipating suits, probably regular military personnel, but it did not matter in the end. A firefight was coming, and she planned to walk through it alive.

The first Turian appeared over the corner, a private equivalent according to the information she had been given. He seemed... competent enough. He just peaked his head over the corner while flashing his light forward, checking the scenery he saw. The circle of light passed through her position, making her muscles tensed up. There was no guarantee that the impromptu... camouflage was sufficient. While the... ground she was in was... dark colored, just like her suits, the chance that the alien soldier could differentiate between the two was still significant. If she was spotted, she would be killed instantly.

Her finger lingered on the trigger, tensing up as the light came closer... and then passed. A few seconds later, the light was suddenly jerked up, making her heart jumped in speed, she almost pulled the trigger out of reflex. Only discipline kept her from doing so, which was a good decision. The Turian private was talking to someone behind him in their tongue, probably saying the area was clear.

What a pity.

The enemy patrol walked out from behind the corner. They seemed... tense. Figured, they carried no sealed suit or mask, and the smell down here was... unpleasant to say the least. The rays of light were scattered all over the tunnel, hitting the ceiling, the wall and the stream of water. Some even passed through her team a few times, but so far, no one was revealed.

Some chatter sprung up, and they were probably complaining about their situation. They had been hit hard yesterday when trying to take key positions, just to see that the sole defender was some automatic defence system. Some humans had been killed already, but most, if not all, were caught in the air strike, or at least that was what she learnt.

Shoving those thoughts aside, she watched the incoming aliens. There were six of them, the second one seemed like the commander of this patrol. Someone with the rank equivalent to a sergeant according to the intelligence reports. They were coming toward her... Fifteen meters... Fourteen... Twelve... Ten.

"Fire."

A crisp and short order, followed by a stream of bullets that surprised the patrol. The combined firepower of the three soldiers was simply... overwhelming. A light machine gun held by Sera in the rear, a submachine gun used by Orge and her assault rifle. Human rounds landed on the lead Turian making the shield flare up. Their combined effort quickly drained his shield and in just three seconds, Turian became the first casualty.

Wasting no time, the three RAINBOW troopers shifted their aim, going for the next one in line. At closed range, the muzzle flash of Terran guns combined with the flash light of the aliens turn a whole section of the tunnel into daylight, which suit the special force soldiers just fine. Along with the thundering boom, the Turians were rendered almost ineffective because of the shock, and they wanted to exploit that disadvantage before they had any chance to fight back.

The sergeant went down next, cut down by a burst from Orge's SMG. He was in the middle of issuing some order. Poor bastard. She could almost feel sympathy for him, if he had not been invading Terran territory. His eyes remained wide opened while his shield died and a bullet tore through his gut, splashing some kind of warm liquid all over his armour. The rest of the patrol did not fare any better. The RAINBOW operators held the edge for combat, killing the aliens before even raising their guns.

No one was surprised when, in less than a minute, all six Turians were dead, their bodies lying in a stream of dirty water. Warmth grimaced. She would hate getting dirty too.

"Move forward," she commanded. "They knew we are here. We will have fight our way through."

"Roger," the other two answered.

"Stay sharp, RAINBOW. We gonna face the longest 30 minutes of our lives. Remember, shoot to kill."

They surged forward, splashing water all over the place.

Warmth's worry proved to be correct. The enemy was alerted thanks to their brief engagement. Ahead of her, roughly 100 meters away and still shrouded in darkness were multiple of bright orange blades and blue-white dots, belonging to at least ten enemy combatants, maybe more. They were far away, unable to shine the light upon her and her teammates, but it would happen in a few minutes.

A decision had to be made.

One hundred and twenty meters away, the lead Turian soldier suddenly saw something lit up in the darkness, like a flash of lightning during a storm. Suddenly, his life flashed before him. His childhood with cakes and candy, school's playground with games of tag and a very cute girl, boot camp with the annoying drill sergeant... He had no idea why such a thing happened.

He hit the ground two seconds later, dead.

The second patrol knelt to the ground, glancing around and they were quickly peppered by some kind of attack. Looking down the corridor, they could see faint flashes from where the enemy was. Knowing that it had to be human, the Turians watched as their Mass Effect rounds tore through the air with the distinct blue trails. However, the aliens had no idea that they just make a terrible mistake. The rounds were shining brightly and leaving a visible path in the air, allowing the Vahalla team to gauge the approximate positions of the enemy. In addition to the still turned on flash lights and "arm bracers" (whatever they were), the human soldiers were able to eliminate every threat.

One by one, the alien invaders fell, cut down mercilessly, brutally and efficiently by RAINBOW. Some had their heads blown off, some was pushed back visibly, and some were filled with holes in the chests. The firefight, while intense and loud, ended with the human's victory, with all Turians was neutralised. Altogether, sixteen Turian soldiers were lost.

However, that victory came at a price. Their ammunition had been used up. In order to break down their shields, Vahalla team had no choice but to overwhelm their enemy with their sheer firepower. Now, all they had left were their sidearms and some limited magazines. They were not even enough to take down a lone enemy, not to mention a patrol group.

"Warmth," Sera began, "should we scavenge those weapons?"

"Are you sure?" Ogre asked. "Can we even use their weapons?"

"I've seen their bodies before," she explained. "They are bipedal and have a similar structure to us. Other than the different numbers of fingers, there is very little difference, and I see no reason why we can't use their guns. Plus, I've seen no ammo pouches on those men. That suggests the potential of a limitless source of ammunition."

Both Orge and Warmth were silent. Limitless ammo? Those... those aliens had somehow solved the migraine of ammunition shortage! Warmth and Orge just glanced at each other. While all they saw was just a sealed helmet, they knew what was under it - the questioning pair of eyes, and a giant grin.

If those guns could shoot a limitless amount of rounds. That was a boon from a higher deity. Not using it would be paramount to a sin. Besides, even if they did not hold an infinite amount of ammunition, they would probably have enough to help them punch a hole through the line. For them, it was enough.

Stepping forward to the dead Turian troopers, Warmth bent down and pulled a gun away from one of them. While it did not have a familiar appearance (for obviously reasons), the gun seemed to be very "high tech". It was roughly 90 centimetres long, on par with most of the current assault rifles used by the Terran Federation. The weight was slightly lighter, but not by much. However, that was probably as far as the similarities went.

Unlike the Terran counterpart, the Turian rifle had its muzzle "protected" by two "arms", one above and one below the muzzle itself, separated by a gap of two or three centimetres. The pistol grip appeared to be part of the stock, for the lack of better description. A small opening was between the handle and the stock rim to allow better gripping and aiming. The next difference was in attached equipment. While all human-made guns had rails to allow for different tools to be attached, whether they were a holosight, a scope or an under-barrel grenade launcher, Warmth saw none on this strange alien gun.

However, it was not the strangest difference. Human guns usually had a matte black colour scheme, or were covered in camouflaged patterns to reduce the chance of being spotted during an ambush. Ideas like those had been part of human military doctrine since the late 20th century... These aliens' weapons were of a brighter metallic matte.

Her trained eyes suddenly as they picked up movement. Light ahead that was coloured blue-white mixed with orange. An enemy patrol that numbered at least thirty. This was not good.

A few streaks of light suddenly passed over her head, forcing her to suppress a yelp while ducking down. Things had just gone to FUBAR.

The tunnel was lit up with the alien rounds travelling through the air, barely shining light upon the crouching RAINBOW operators. The mission was FUBAR. They could hardly punch through enemy line in this situation, and aeing outnumbered, outgunned and probably outmanoeuvred, there was no way they could get out of this unscathed.

Glancing to the side toward her comrades, she asked, "Comm check."

"Orge here: mine's busted. A bullet probably hit it earlier."

"Sera here. Mine's still working, but I can't reach Command from here. We're too deep. Remember, we don't have the code for this mushroom of God, so we can't even try a final Eff you."

"What a pity... Going out with a bang is a man's dream..."

"A pity, aye, but not for the same reason as yours Orge."

So, they were stuck between a rock and a hard place. Knowing her luck the enemy would probably hit her from behind within fifteen minutes... or half an hour at most. She had already seen some junctions on the way here, and the risk of the enemy discovering them and flanking was too great. Meanwhile, the enemy in front of them was slowly creeping forward while pinning down her squad. A rock and a hard place indeed...

Taking a deep breath, she spoke slowly.

"Understood. So let's..."

* * *

The old Centurion sighed deeply for the sixth time that day. There was only one thing he hated more than being caught off-guard during a battle, and it was when his plan went... horribly right. Last night, he almost fell into a hole made by the bombing. It should not have been a major problem, at least until he found out what was in the hole. A sewer system!

A sewer system that consisted of several tunnels, each was wide and tall enough for a few Turians to pass through at the same time. It meant that it was also enough for the enemy to smuggle their men in and out of the area at the same rate - under their own feet and claws! He told it to his fellow Cohort commanders, but only some seemed interested. Granted, they were all impressed at first, but only a few believed in the danger of those... dark dirty places.

For once, he was partial to agree with them. It had taken a lot from him to check it, and he wondered who in their right mind would fight with... _waste_ floating around them? However, he had learned not to underestimate these humans and his concerns were making other commanders think. Many were young but they were also smart, if inexperienced. However, none of them had any experience with the concept of infantry attacks, believing that mechanised formations could do a much better job at any task. While it was true most of the time, urban warfare was something that was better suited for infantry

He had deployed some patrols within the tunnel system, with a larger reserve staying above ground. It should have been some minor task. Annoying, yes, but it was better than being shredded to pieces like yesterday.

None of his men seemed happy when they received the mission (and he did not blame them). At least, they still accepted it, with no question asked, like good Turians. A surge of pride was formed when he saw that. Despite the death and destruction, the rigid discipline of their culture still held firm. The humans may try harder, but they would not break the will of his men.

After all, they must be sane enough to stay away from their own waste, right?

No, he had hoped for that last night, and it was all for naught this morning. The humans had already launched an attack in the tunnels itself. Unknown scale and unknown numbers. One patrol had gone silent, while another one reported a "cracking sound" before being attacked. They had failed to stop the humans, but they had bought enough time for their comrades to build a defensive line.

Thirty-six men with heavy weaponry and overlapping fields of fire. In an enclosed area with limited (or only one) vector of attack, that should be more than enough to deter and defeat any attack.

Yet, they were barely enough for three human soldiers with scavenged Turian weapons.

The report made him thought it was a joke at first. Even for Blackwatch, skills like that were rare, but the more he read, the more he believed and knew that it was true. Three human soldiers, all at Blackwatch level, had punched through the perimeter of thirty-six men. Blasting the hard points with... some kind of explosive device, focusing firepower and using suppressing fire to advance. All of those were equivalent, if not slightly better than the special force of the Hierarchy itself.

The old Turian felt dread build up inside him, and he said a prayer to the Spirits that those humans were not the regular force. Because if they were... He felt shame for even thinking it, but he would prefer getting off the planet while he was still able to. The only keeping him here was his sense of duty and loyalty to his men.

On the bright side, those three humans had been killed, albeit at a... high cost. Thinking about it made him even more depressed. His Cohort was finished as a fighting unit, with roughly half of his men either dead, dying or wounded. The other half were scared out of their minds. Only a handful of men were able to hold themselves together through the night, and the NCO were still able to maintain discipline in the ranks, despite it being on the verge of breaking this morning.

It was a two-pronged attack, he realised. The robotic suits were deployed as a distraction for the three spec-ops soldiers to infiltrate the area. They also appeared to have been instructed to create as much chaos on the Turians as possible. Meanwhile, the trio, in theory, would move in silently and do whatever they had been tasked to do. He suddenly felt lucky that he was still alive at the moment. There was no information on the mission of the second group, and he was wondering if he even _wanted_ to know about it.

The door opened, revealing the _Optio_ , the very same one who had reported to him earlier this morning. He was just having his omni-tool turned off. This young Turian was ordered to investigate these aliens. The General in command seemed... ignorant of this part, but he and his fellow (saner) commanders knew that they either had to do this, or they would know next to nothing about these... aliens.

Those "primitive aliens", as the general had put it, were able to put up a fierce struggle against the Turians and even seemed to gain an upper hand. They may lose tactically in space, but they won it strategically - three ships and a station for nearly sixty ships? Among those lost were _two_ dreadnoughts and as least five Centuria's worth of Storm Bracers. On the ground, they removed at least a thousand men in an enormous fireball with no losses of their own. They made the entire landing operation extremely costly while suffering insanely low casualties. The two Cohorts were reduced to barely one combined, the Mechanised Cohort had been rendered ineffective...

In short, the humans were able to fight off one Army Legion _and_ the equivalent to three fleet, and it was in less than two days.

With combat looking like that, every Cohort commander had agreed to launch their investigation and share the results. It was surprisingly quick.

"Sir, I have the report finished. Would you like me to submit it?"

Yes, surprisingly quick. The old Centurion eyed the young officer standing in front of him. He was a soldier, born and breed, and an officer who lead from the front. Some of the terminology that the younger generation used were difficult to grasp at times but he always made it a habit to try and learn about the newest concepts that the Heiarchy were coming up with. Even if he read the report, he may not learn anything. Meanwhile, the young officer seemed highly capable. He would have a bright future ahead, providing he could leave this place alive.

"Tell me what you found out and what you think _Optio_. And keep it short and clear."

"It won't be the full report, sir."

"Don't worry about it, son. Just tell me what you know and what you think."

The young man seemed surprised about it. His mandibles opened slightly but he re-gained his composure quickly enough. Good soldier.

"Well... Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Granted."

"I just want to be sure that I will not be put on trial, judged or disciplined, for my personal opinions on this."

"I am giving you my permission to speak freely. What you say will not reflect in any way, shape, or form upon you or your record."

Something... was wrong. The old Centurion could see it in the eyes and composure of the young officer. What could possible scare him?

"Sir, I believe these humans are worthy adversaries. They are both more, and less, advanced than us in the same time. And I only say less advanced because no traces of Element Zero was found, so far. First, there is their combat armour. It could be considered better, and almost every one of their soldiers are equipped with it. They also have an integrated communication system, which would allow their commanding officers to understand the battlefield situation clearly and react to a changing situation quickly. They are also capable of creating some kind of sealed environment, providing protection against multiple hazardous situation, in theory at least. While the humans don't appear to have kinetic barriers on their armours, probably because they have yet to utilise Element Zero, their unshielded armour makes up for it."

"By how much?"

"To put it in perspective, two or three rounds from a Maelston can puncture our armour; we need around six for the human's. That is for their standard armour that we scavenged from the dead humans we found yesterday, sir. The ones recovered from... the their three elite soldiers this morning were slightly better. I believe that those three suits were customised for each of them. There were also more pockets and hooks to store extra equipment. They also have more tools than the average soldier."

"But they don't have kinetic barriers?"

"No sir, or at least none among the armours we found."

"So... we have a slight edge?"

"Somewhat, sir, but we need specialised equipment to quickly recharge the barriers to maximum capacity, which we only had eight in our whole Cohort, and the moment, we lost half of them in the fighting yesterday. The combat effectiveness of the barriers have been noted, and other Cohorts have reported similar problems, thanks to a few old friends being attached to the others."

"Which mean the odds are even now, but are slowly tilting to the humans."

"Yes, sir."

"And the weapons?"

"Hard to say, sir. Both sides are using kinetic weapons, but with... different principles. We are using the Element Zero to reduced mass of a metal grain significantly to increase its speed exponentially. With a built-in metal block, each gun is basically capable of shooting infinitely. However, the drawback is the limit of the heat sink and overheating. That can be countered with bursts of fire, but the situation is completely different from what we are used to that many fire continuously until they overheat. Then they have to wait roughly ten seconds for them to cool down."

"It was originally deemed an acceptable trade off decades ago. But what about the humans' guns? They are highly... effective."

"For good reasons. As I said before, they use different set of concept, sir. Theirs are based off of chemical combustion to propel their rounds. We stopped using that concept... a thousand years ago, I think."

"Because those guns were inferior to the mass effect weaponry?"

"Actually, I believe they were about the same, but the idea of unlimited ammo for soldiers was a huge selling point when they were finally adopted. The humans' are better than our old guns, almost comparable to the Maelston."

"How? And explain it in simple words please. I have no time for some scientific debate."

"Yes, sir. The first reason is... their weapons are highly modular. We only had basic aiming sights then, and had only begun working on modifications when we discovered eezo. _Iron sight_ as it was noted in the old doctrine, I've heard some of the others called it the Whore's gap, and no, sir, I have no idea why it was called like that. Meanwhile, the humans have at least three different aiming sights to use, in addition to iron sights. Some of them are similar to ours, combining electronics with optical, but they have gone in a different direction on some of them. Most of which I'm still trying to figure out the principle of, but some having an effective range of up to 500 meters. Please note, sir, I have only had an hour and a little over than a hundred rounds to test with. My original effective range is just above 200 meters."

The assessment that the Turian had given him had revealed to the old Centurion why the humans were such capable soldiers. Back in his training days, it took him a couple of weeks to hit a target at 200 meters. This Turian just told him that he could theoretically hit a target at 500 meters within an hour. Such a difference filled him with dread. If he was _that_ good, how good was an enemy who was already familiar with these firearms?

"The next reason is their ammunition. As I said earlier, our guns shoot a metal grain at a very high speed. It leaves a clean, nice hole on our body, that can be healed relatively easily. Well... mostly, ammunition mods are a tad rare for regular forces... But the humans... they have bullets just could do much, much worse."

The old Centurion had no idea what to feel now. Should he feel glad because he had a competent and talented subordinate, or should he be afraid because the very same person was telling him something came straight out of nightmare?

"...Define 'worse'."

"Well, it's the type of ammunition they use. Unlike us, they don't use modifications to alter how the ammunition functions. It seems like the _manufacture_ them to do what they want them to do. Their armour-piercing ammunition can pierce one body and then the next person's armour, killing both of them. Our armour-piercing mods can't come close to that kind of power. Some of their ammo appears to function similar to our incendiary mods, but to a lesser extent. It can burn the flesh around the entry round, and the heat of this ammunition has an effect on our barriers. Those two are the special ammo that we found, mostly from the dead and wounded, and some from the few humans we have killed. There are reports of some unknown type of ammo being used in the... destroyed space port, sir. As for the robotic suits that attacked us earlier, I only have speculations."

"Do you have any proof to confirm your theory?"

"No, sir. As I said, I only have speculation."

"... Alright, that's everything?"

He asked, half hoping that was, in fact, everything. This morning had been hectic enough already. However, the Spirits had yet to... bless him.

The rasped voice of the young officer sprung up again.

"That... is not all, sir. I have barely scratched the surface of the information I have gathered... It only gets worse from there... I have consulted with other _Centurions_ and _Optios_. From what I have learned, they all have come to the same conclusion as I have."

"How much worse?"

The soldier paused before answering.

"Enough to make an enraged Krogan looked pale sir, a _giggling_ Krogan entering a Blood rage."

 _Oh spirits_. The day was only getting worse. First the robotic suit attack and then sending half a Centurion to stop three elite soldiers was not how he wanted this day to go. He just wanted off this miserable plant and away from these humans.

In the distance, a strange whistling sound was heard, chilling the hearts of both officers.

* * *

 **Location:**  
Jungle on the Outskirts of Southern Suburb  
Zhen Zhu City  
Shanxi, Zhusanjiao System

 **Time:**  
January 30, 2200 (Terran Calendar) - March 15, 2727 (Galactic calendar)  
1035 (Earth time) - 1811 (Galactic standard)

 **Unit:**  
12th Infantry Platoon, Dog Company, 2nd Battalion [EU]  
Shanxi Garrison  
Terran Federation Army

Hiding beyond the tree line, Corporal Neville Fredrickson silently flicked off his safety to "burst fire". A faint sound of a click was heard and the icon on his HUD changed from an "X" over a bullet to a stack of three bullets. All preparation had been made, and the only thing left was the signal to attack. According to the General Williams, it was the job of the artillery, hiding somewhere in the forest behind him, to signal when it was to begin. No one knew precisely where they were hiding, and only the General and his staff had the knowledge of that. Everyone else could only narrow it down to within 2km.

Then again, they had it easy. All they had to do was support the infantry and armour, not take part in the actual attack itself. Staying behind the lines to strike at the enemy, to cause confusion for the enemy and force them to panic, while the dagger was drawn, ready for that critical strike. Such was the way they had fought to protect their homes in the past. It would be a hellish battle, not on _Putingrad_ level, but it was probably at least something similar to Purgatory.

A whisper came on his comm, it was the voice of Corporal Harry "Scarhead" Potter, one of his close friends. Both of them were on the more... reckless side when it came to combat exercises, mostly shown by their aggressive charges during exercises, and somehow managing to take objectives relatively unscathed. However, this was not an exercise, but real combat against a hostile alien race. His friend's deep and calm voice managed to ease him slightly, but he could detect a trace of nervous in his voice. That was understandable, no soldier expected to fight against alien invaders when they signed up for this.

"Relax, mate. We remember our training, try not to do anything too stupid, and we'll get through this just fine."

"A... Alright..."

"Breathe... just take deep breath..."

Alright, maybe Harry was talking to himself too. Glancing to the side where his friend was laying on the ground and looking through his scope, he sighed. Yeah, Harry was still highly agitated. Twitchy fingers, forced slow and heavy breathing, not to mention constant tapping on his gun, he was also scared sh**less too. No one could blame either of them, or the rest of the platoon for that matter. While this was not the first time they unleashed a barrage with live ammunition, this was the first time they did it to kill alien invaders.

That knowledge did not help him to calm down at all.

The time slowly ticked by, the waiting becoming almost unbearable. They were waiting for the signal from the artillery. There was to be an initial bombardment of a couple of minutes, followed by the signal to advance. The storm was always at its worst when it was brewing over the horizon.

Glancing upwards, Neville watched the bright blue rays of light going through the leaves. The ecosystem on this planet was quite... interesting to say the least. Instead of having a class G star like most of the habitable systems within the Terran Federation, this planet was blessed by a class F star, slightly hotter (as in a few thousand Kelvin degree hotter, on average). That resulted in the blueish-white light instead of the traditional yellow light on Earth. It was... different to watch it if Neville had to describe it.

However, it could not be enjoyed as it to be. The scene in front of him was simply ruin and destruction of the capital city, and practically the only "true city" on the planet. All other communities on the planet fell under "town" category, having a population of a couple thousand at most. Everything, from government and administration, higher education, major hospitals, entertainment centers, and major shopping centers were located there, and it would take a lot of resources, manpower and time to rebuild it. That could happen only when the aliens were driven off the planet and back to where they had come from, with their blood staining the ground.

However, that was the distant future. Now, he just wanted to be alive by the end of the day...

Everyone did really. About four out of five men in the platoon had family somewhere in the Federation, waiting for news on what was happening on Shanxi. Elysium, Terra Nova, and even Earth itself were some of the planets that the men and women in the platoon hailed from. The remaining one in five were from Shanxi, and for them, this invasion made what they were doing personal. Most of the soldiers in the platoon were still young and green, and they were all afraid. The ones who managed to keep them in line were their NCOs, who also made sure the officers didn't get them killed, but that didn't stop the men and women from worrying. What if they were killed? What if they were spotted by enemy patrol before the attack began? What if their attack was stopped dead in its tracks? What if they were unsuccessful liberating the city or at least a considerable part of it? All he did know was that people were going to die, and he just hoped that he was one of the lucky ones who lived.

There were too many questions, most of which none could answer, some of which he would rather _not_ to know the answer. Steering away from that train of thought, Neville recalled past events to calm himself down.

Three weeks ago, the news of the Quarian arrival had resulted in a real uproar in the armed forces. How they looked, how they acted and how they fought were the main topics discussed among the soldiers, sailors, pilots and technicians. The forum 4chun (exclusively used by armed forces personnel) was flooded with ideas, though he only had access to the junior enlisted boards and those that were allowed to be seen by the more senior personnel. Some ODSTs had written that these Quarians would be bug-like, have highly specialised in bio-chemical products and medicine, and be very afraid of fire, stating that the best way to fight was to use incendiary ordinance. Meanwhile, some sailors, with leaked information from Navy, had said the Quarian Navy was large and numerous, stating the best way to fight them was to develop better fighters and bombers.

The discussion just went on and on until the official news and footage were finally released. Saying there was an uproar in the barracks was a... understatement. For a few days, there was only one topic: how they looked like behind the masks. Some drew their own ideas of what they looked like. From elf-like humanoids with pointed ears and light hair to reptile-like bipedal beings with "spikes" and dark "faces". For everyone, the sky was the limit, and of course, even now, no one had found out how they really looked like. It was still a mystery.

A small yellow circle appeared on his HUD. He knew what that meant: Stand-by for attack. The icon for the artillery strike began to flash in a corner, along with a countdown, appeared below it. Twelve seconds until the barrage began. So, General Williams had ordered the attack. That was fine. The waiting had begun to strain him mentally, and this just allowed him to focus on what was coming ahead. General Williams had allowed for just enough time for the men to recover from their long march under cover before issuing the order.

A whistling sound was heard through the air. Though Neville could not see them, he knew that the shells were falling toward the Turian's positions. Some of the shells probably had messages painted on them saying things like, "Welcome to Shanxi, our esteemed guests". It was a tradition among some of the artillery crews of the Terran Armed forces, saying that it dated back to the 20th Century.

Neville did not have much time to ponder about that. The shells were already hitting their targets. A thundering explosion brought along a rising smoking column and heavy vibration from the ground. Debris and earth were blasted upward in the strike, throwing some nearby Turians and annihilating others. He could almost imagine the faint cry of those aliens, despite being nearly 500 meters away. Well, almost was the key word. He had no idea what these aliens sounded like, but he could probably understand the fear and shock they were experiencing now.

He could almost pity for them, but they should not have attack them or their new Quarian friends unprovoked. They did, however, and this was their punishment.

He wasn't sure if it was due to sheer luck or not, but the corvettes that had been hovering over Zhen Zhu were hit by several HE rounds. One of the alien ships fell to the ground, a pile of wreckage, while the other two managed to limp away a short distance before having to crash-land. Neville was a bit disappointed, and had expected more...explosive result, not a couple rising columns of smokes, but he remembered that there was an off-chance that those ships could have exploded and kill everyone in the blast area.

The artillery barrage aiming at the city (or what left of it) was to continue for five minutes, long enough to keep the Turians' heads down but not too long for them to organize a proper defense. The spaceport had been cut off from the rest of the city by a series of jammers placed around the perimeter and occasional attack by sniper teams. Disruption behind the lines and attacking on them. That was the core of General Williams' plan.

All of this relied on the Turians wanting to hold the city for as long as possible, which the Terran military would use to their advantage. Attacking the city while the enemy still occupied it would neutralise their orbital supremacy for fear of friendly fire, reduce the chance of the shelters being found, and finally, buy time for reinforcements to arrive. They all knew this fight would be difficult, and whether or not they wanted to admit it, some of them would die or maimed in this fight. However, he and his comrades had their orders, and their duty to not only to the Federation, but to humanity as a whole. To ensure that those they loved and cared for would be able to continue living, while others made the necessary, and sometimes ultimate, sacrifice.

They were all soldiers, and they all made sacrifices, so that others would not have to.

Gripping the rifle tightly, he watched as the timer counted down. The bombardment was almost over, and Neville's eyes focused ahead of him. The barrage was just as intense, there was no sign of slacking off. The city... or the rubble would be a better word, was reduced further, no doubt causing chaos among the enemy's position. He could see fires blazing, and smoke rising in the distance. He took a deep breath. He could feel his time coming…he knew it.

The barrage suddenly stopped as quickly as it had begun, and he heard the voice of the company commander give the order, "Company, advance!"

 _So, this was it_ , he though. _Time to fight._

* * *

 **For anyone wondering, yes, the special force team (RAINBOW) was stopped - they failed to plan the nuclear warhead and was killed by Turian force. However, as you see, they made the Turian _paid_ for that victory. While the aliens know that they were carrying something, the warhead had already entered the "lock down" state, making all attempts to decipher and investigate impossible.**

 **General Williams know about this failure thanks to a message encoded into the warhead when it was brought to the surface. While the Turians could not use the nuke, he knew that he would have to fight back the more conventional way.**

 **Following the suggestion of CPT Reynolds, I decided to paint the Turian army as "torn", as in while there are certain competent (and sometimes, frightening smart) men like the old Centurion and the young Optio, the high command (General Brutus Oriendas in this case) was... not as bright. Soon enough, the Turian (in my story) would show why they were the primary peace keeping force of the Citadel Council. They are stereotyped as hot head, impatient and prone to violent, but they are _competent_ soldiers.**

 **And they don't live on a "death world" like us.**

 **In addition, the "hard suits" mentioned a few times in this chapter and in my story are "standard battle dress uniform". Mikemars on Deviantart has some surprisingly good examples of "hard suits" for my story. You guys can check out his page for some illustrations.**

* * *

 **Last edit on 26th February, thanks to the wonderful man known as Cpt Reynolds**


	17. Chapter 14

**Well, things at university are not so bright for me. I (should) have an internship placement this September. In order to be qualified, I need to pass _all_ test from the first year (I have 1 left) for 60 credits and 45 credits for this year. The bad news is that I've already lost 7.5 credits for this year, 1 more failed test and I'd be... you know. The saving grace was that I could do a minor instead of the intern...**

 **But seriously, I hope the future pays off for this gritty course of Engineering.**

 **I have the next week off as vacation, at least**

 **Chapter 13 (the last one) has been proof-read by the awesome man known as CPT Reynolds, it will be updated within a few hours.**

* * *

 **Admiral0mass: Human Navy support had already stationed at the rim of the system. They were afraid of a hidden Mass Relay leading directly to Sol that they have yet to barge in (as well as the fact that they knew next to nothing about the enemy). The Ground force was being deployed at the moment**

 **Tallman7: Yep. Harry Potter. I'm planning for cameo from a few other books, movies, TV series and anime/manga too**

 **Touhoufanatic: No remote detonation, unfortunately. General William planned to blow their feet up (like the "traditional" tunnel warfare of World War 1, and an earlier application during US Civil war)**

 **grey [guest]: ... smiley face winky winky**

 **HyperionATLAS: Thanks for your review. I'm always trying for the best**

 **general-joseph-dickson: Thanks for your review. But what do you mean when you say "center spacing"?**

 **AmethystPone: Well, the MAC on the station A-156 is not the same as the Super MAC on Cairo Station like in Halo 2...**

 **Aramus: Thanks for your review. There would be _a lot_ of xeno for them to fight off though**

 **AmethystPone (2nd review): The 14th Chapter (Chapter 11.5) was not written by me so there would be some... difference. However, in short, human's ships have better defence (armour and electronic counter measure), firepower (we have _nukes_ and _anti-matter_ tipped missiles as standard weapons in space) and high cargo capacity. Meanwhile, the ME-based ships of the Council have better manoeuvrability, slightly higher speed and the ability to use Mass Relay freely.**

* * *

 **Tribute to Call of duty: United Offensive, Harry Potter and a few others**

* * *

Recovered vid [video message/diary] from Munifex [Private] Vlidus Dubious, 7th Cohort, 7th Legion [Turian force]  
Location: Shanxi, Zhusanjiao system, PRUC Administration Zone  
Time stamp [converted to Terran calendar]: 2200-01-30-1408

.

.

.

Hi Maria,

I'm sorry because I miss the promise. My presence was requested to join a peace keeping mission. Some one just activated a dormant Relay, General Oriendas told us that it was a primitive race uplifted by the Quarians. But this is Oriendas we're talking about, so I think I should take it with some grain of salt. Rumors are not exactly... kind about him.

But enough on that. I'm fine. Don't worry. The dirt on my face is just that. Dirt... OK, you're probably glaring at me now... [ _smile_ ] It's dirt and some kind of soot get stuck on my face. But they're all dirt, basically. And if you're still glaring at me, no, I'm not hurt. A bit of bruise here and there but nothing serious, nothing a Turian cannot handle.

I'm fine, but... [ _deep sigh_ ] my friends aren't. The humans just launched a counter-attack this morning. We're still holding the position... Or my unit, at least. I heard of some strong holds being lost and then re-taken, and then lost and re-taken again. Some men are lost, some almost suffer the same fate... Their deaths... Never mind about that, it's still too early to be pessimistic, and I don't want you to be sleepless because of the nightmares. Wrinkles will make you getting old faster [ _laugh_ ].

Our Old Man is still holding strong, so we must stay firm to support him. You remember our Cohort commander right? A bit tough, strict and mean, but he's very fair in treatment so I cannot blame him anything...

This mission... It seems like a tough fight. But don't worry sweetie, it's still in our control. The humans will be pacified soon and I'll come back. And I promise, I'll go out shopping with you. Just don't buy too much... ergo, I mean you can buy as much as we... or I... can carry home. [ _chuckle_ ] Send my regards to your brother, the younger and saner one, not the other. Tell him that I'd have a manly chat with him, and no, you don't want to know what it means. Bro-code and things like that.

See you on Palaven soon.

I love you, Maria.

.

.

.

 _Vlidus Dubious was confirmed Killed in Action (KIA) due to a mortar attack at 1500 on the same day while he was on sentry duty. This message was contributed by his fiancee Maria_ [surname omitted] _and his family for the production of the documentary_ Terran Storm _._

 _May him rest in peace._

* * *

 **'Counter attack' - Morning, Day 2**

 **Location:**  
Southern suburb  
Zhen Zhu city  
Shanxi planet  
Zhusanjiao system

 **Time:**  
January 30, 2200 (Terran calendar) - March 15, 2727 (Galactic calendar)  
10h47 (Earth time) - 18h23 (Galactic calendar)

 **Unit:**  
12th Infantry Platoon, "Dog" Company, 2nd Battalion [EU]  
Shanxi Garrison  
Army formation, Terran Federation

As soon as the order was given out, Neville and Harry, along with their squad, moved behind an Armoured Personnel Carrier, ready to move forward. The standard issued APC, the M121 Guardian, was an well-rounded piece of engineering. Tough, durable, packed a real punch and capable of cross over the most unforgivable terrains known to human, accepted mountainous and ocean of course. As a trend from early 21st century, the APC was made with modular idea: the same chassis would be used in tandem with different weapon systems for different situation. For example, for today's attack, three platforms were deployed for his company: two were built in APC variants and the last was made as an Infantry Fighting Vehicle (IFV).

The differences were not various, mostly in terms of firepower. The IFV had more lead (and _boom_ ) stored inside, and they traded cargo capacity for that. Not by a heavy degree - four soldiers and three crew members compared to eight soldiers and two-men crew. The trade off was accepted due to the armament of the IFV. Instead of just a gun like the APC variant, it was given a duo-gun turret. The "main gun" was a 20mm autocannon, capable of eliminating (and annihilating) un-armoured and lightly armoured enemy, combatants and vehicles alike. The other was a co-axial 12.7mm machine gun, prepared in order to deal extra damage and suppress enemy infantry. The guns could be fired manually (or "good 'ol traditional way") or "shoot by wire" (a fancy term for "video game interface"), allowing high adaptation to multiple situations. Furthermore, active protective system was also equipped, further enhancing its survivability against missiles and bombing runs.

The APCs, while slightly less... threatening, were still capable of wrecking anyone's day. A remote-control turret of dual 7.62mm machine guns provided sufficient cover and support for most of the situation. The 1000-round belt consisted of various type of ammunition ranging from tracer to armour piercing surely helped a lot. While the firepower output was... humble compared to her cousin's ability, the APC enjoyed a better "cruise control" with slightly higher speed and better ventilation. The second part was the result of a field test consisting the designers and a squad of soldiers, the soldiers who had not taken a bath for a week.

The Army always knew how to play prank and earn the gimmicks indeed.

Of course, that was even _before_ the egg-heads decided to _have fun_ with the propulsion system (as well as _other_ advance combat systems). Though there was something no soldier could understand: why being "environmental friendly" was a part of the design's requirements? The main source of power was hydrogen "burned" via the fuel cell system, running in _parallel_ to a high capacity battery (fast-charged available thanks to fusion, anti-matter and solar power plant). In addition to that was a bio-fuel internal combustion engine running mostly on alcohol and/or bio- as well as natural gas. Those two gases were mostly the same, consisting of methane, found in both natural deposit and cow's poop.

Yep. Cow's poop, or anything's poop actually... but mostly cow. Neville grimaced, remembering the day during boot camp when his unit had to _collect_ the raw material... It was not the best memory ever (but to be honest, it was still better than some units from PAC - they had to do it _everyday_ ).

Nevertheless, the combined "engine" allowed the vehicle to obtain the operational range of 800km with minimum maintenance and care. Plus, the exhaust gas was... green...

Neville still had no idea why the brass sounded like "tree huggers" at this point... But to be honest, he did not care any more. He was facing more pressing matters, like staying alive for a few more days.

The 10th Platoon, being Mechanised Infantry originally, was transported by the vehicles while their comrades in the 11th and 12th, being "Line Infantry" had to moved toward the city on foot. Luckily, the drivers were nice enough to put them on top and behind their vehicles to increase speed as well as protection. Both of these were fairy important as they had to cross an open field of three kilometres as quick as possible.

Now, despite everything they said about 23rd century's infantry, they still had to walk on foot a lot. Building up the character, high command said, avoiding the reliance on machine, their drill instructor commanded. Though, on a fair note, they were right. Neville and Harry knew that even without APCs and IFVs support, an infantry unit would still be able to defeat an unit at the same size with those very same attachment. It was always about using lever to amplify the force. Or something like that...

Grunting harshly, which earned him a few concerned glares from his squad mates, he removed any "unnecessary thoughts". The training had already taken him over. Staying behind the APC, he slightly lean forward with the gun held firmly in both hands and moved forward, keeping pace with the vehicle. In front of the unit, artillery shells were slamming down on the ground, breaking the defence barricades built by Turians in haste. In addition, the barrage also pinned down the enemy, forcing them to stay in their position and keeping them away from hitting the approaching units of the Terran Federation.

Neville knew that his platoon was not the only unit deployed at the moment. His company, along with two others, was being deployed to hit from the southern side of the city. Meanwhile, another company was attacking from the _inside out_. They were the Combat Engineer deployed there initially. The whole show of welcoming firework yesterday was filled with their... dedication. Despite major losses, they were able to give the enemy a beating as well as keep the entrance to the bunkers safe and hidden. Now, with the approaching hammer of the Federation, they would be able to act as the dagger, striking enemy from their very own rear.

The grass on the ground... well, at least they were still green. They had yet to be burnt off or crushed over or dug up by war. The key word was _yet_.

The thundering sound echoed back from the front, telling him that the firefight was coming closed. Pretty closed. The sound slowly got louder and louder, warning every one in the unit about the impending fight.

Staying behind the APC and keeping the pace with its speed, Neville quickly stepped into the "danger zone" - the distance where even a normally-trained soldier could nail a man in a single shot. The artillery barrage, knowing him and his friend was coming close, had already shift their fire into the city, allowing the defence line of the Turians to lift up their heads and instantly being hammered by the incoming vehicles.

The IFV on Neville's right opened fire with a long burst of the auto-cannon, tearing down what left of three-storey building and every Turian behind it. It could be roughly described as... evaporation? Probably... The resistance around the suburb died off quickly after that as a combined effort of the auto-cannon and precise artillery strikes. Meanwhile, the barrage continued to hit on the interior of the city and reduce enemy strength to a more _manageable_ level.

An order from the squad's sergeant was issued, quickly telling his squad to move ahead of the APC and clear out any opposition left in the building. The door located behind the vehicle also sprung open, letting another squad getting out. With the combined manpower of two squads, they began to move forward...

"Twelfth platoon, our order was to secure the left flank of the company. First and second squad, I want you to clear out the block on our left. Third, I want you to push forward with the APC, clear out any obstacle on the road. Forth, fill in the gap between ours and the men in the 13th, nothing can sneak past us and f*** our friends in their arses. Rendezvous at the Central Plaza of Commerce district. Urah?"

"URAH!"

The Lieutenant quickly barked out orders and received a firm response from every one in the platoon. Neville glanced around, watching his comrades splitting up into squads and moved forward to their objectives. His HUD inside the helmet, taking into account his position as a soldier from Second squad as well as local geography data, illuminated a path going through the apartment block on the left toward the plaza. The planned route was... eight-kilometre long, and filled with enemy... Well, at least that was how he earned his paycheck after all.

The apartment block, the only seemingly intact building in sight, was four storey high and dotted with ash, soot and broken windows. The order was quickly given, instead of sweeping floor-by-floor, they would clear out all four rooms simultaneously with four fireteams. The remaining two fireteams would remain as the reserve and sentry in the same time. Neville and Harry were tasked with clear out the top floor and the roof with the other two member: Draco "Ferret" and Theodore "Teddy". Fireteam by fireteam, they moved up on the stair, trusting the men in the front to spot any threats and the men behind them to cover their back in case of sneak attack.

A few moment passed away in an uneasy silence, there was no enemy to be seen, and there was no attack against them. It was as if the enemy had already disappeared into thin air. In the situation of close quarter combat like an urban environment like this, it was not something nice. There were simply to many places to hide and snipe from, and with multiple corners, cranes and nooks, even a newbie could surprise a battle hardened veteran and cause serious trouble. Now, they were facing aliens with unknown capabilities, it was not a good omen to think about.

Fireteam "Bravo" of Neville creeping to the top floor. Due to his slightly above average build, Neville was tasked as the "lead" for close quarter combat scenarios like this time. Standing at the corner between the stair and the wall, he peeked around the corner and swept the hallway a few times. No sight of enemy, no trace of movements... Which also meant that potential enemy was hiding behind the closed doors. He voiced his report into the microphone inside the helmet.

"Shorttop here, no enemy sighted."

"Copy. Ferret, take the sentinel position, Teddy and Shortop, take point."

"Aye aye sir."

"Yes sir."

"Wilco."

Pulling out a shotgun from behind his back, Neville checked the nearest door and confirmed that it was unlocked for some reasons, either the civilians had to move in haste or the Turian forgot to lock it. Meanwhile, Harry was watching the rest of the hallway while Theodore was supporting the "big dude". In the back was Draco with his rifle customised with a flip up scope sight, ready to snipe any Turian head peaking out of the door.

Slowly and carefully opened the door, Neville walked inside with his shotgun cocked and raised. He glanced around the wrecked living room and had to suppress a grunt. The first thing he noticed was the shadow in the room - there was no power. It was probably due to the bombing yesterday, the power station of this block must be hit and nonoperational then. Then, the next items were three burnt and torn coaches put into an U-shape with a half-broken glass table in the middle. On the opened end of the U was a screen sticking onto the wall, a busted and cracked screen. It was as if a small hurricane had paid this room a visit, throwing items and tools all over the ground.

He sincerely hoped that the family staying here had already bought some insurance. No enemy in sight... Blinking a few times, he voiced the report into the microphone:

"Living room clear."

A shadow from the corner of the eye told him that Teddy was moving into the next room, a kitchen or a dining room perhaps? The HUD in his helmet also reported the movement of Draco and Harry, one was holding guard at the door while the other checking other rooms in this apartment, or studio if a more proper and correct term was required. Follow the training, he moved deeper into the room, ventured into the areas had yet to be checked by his mates. Quickly, reports were sounded up from different corners by each soldier:

"Kitchen clear."

"First bedroom clear."

"Second bedroom clear."

"Bathroom clear."

"Toilet clear."

"Washroom clear."

The first studio was clear, thanks God for that. Neville glanced at the studio again. It was... or it could be a cosy home, now, it was wrecked beyond any recognition. War... war simply sucked out hope from every where it visited...

Harry, as the command of the fireteam, signalled the team to move to the next room. However, before Teddy even reached the door frame, the sound of gun fire, _human_ gun fire flared up from downstairs, prompting four men to freeze in the room. Dread and alert quickly filled up all four men, they knew what the sound meant.

Contact with the enemy.

They were trained for scenarios like this, but they were not prepared for it mentally, no one wanted to kill another beings, this was even more correct with the "green" recruits like Fireteam "Bravo". The report from Fireteam "Gamma" confirming their fear did nothing to ease down the tension. Again, four young men looked at each other, wondering what to do. They knew each other since secondary school, they knew of each other's dreams of guns and tanks, but they also knew each other fear of death like any human beings.

Then, they heard sound coming from the other end of the hallway. Some heavy footstep, doors being kicked opened and some grunts in not-human way... Aliens... Or, Turians... or Turian reinforcement. Where the hell did they came from was another question. A question for another time. The shaky voice of Harry flared up on the radio net, ensuring silence was the only thing heard by the coming enemy. Meanwhile, gun fire was still exchanged downstairs.

Fear slowly creeping into each soldier. They were trained to shoot accurately, but not killing... Granted, each of them had scored over 1000 kills, but it was in video games and in exercise. They knew that the image the saw then was either "unreal" or "safe", no one would have to die by the end of the day. However, now, they would have to take away lives, lives of the others, in order to survive, or live, until night fall. Human conscious was colliding violently with their oath of service. Thay half wanted to run away and hide, and half pressed to stay put and fight.

The voice of Harry sprung up on the radio net. Even though he did not show it, all three remaining soldiers knew that their Corporal was straining himself. He was trying to be calm and professional in order to keep the team combat efficient. He was success, to a degree.

"Bravo, ready for combat. Teddy, prep a bang-bang, when they are three rooms away from us, throw it. Shorttop, Ferret... when they are still dizzy, hit 'em with everything you got, I'll support with an HE 'nade... Questions?... No? Good. So get ready. May God bless us all..."

With that order, the quartet moved silently to the door frame, hiding them from the incoming squad. Harry was kneeling right behind the door frame, it seemed like he intentionally exposed himself to attract enemy attention if needed. The foot steps and the strange metallic voice were coming closer and closer, yet Neville's palm was stll opened... _Wait for it... Wait for it..._ And then, he suddenly clenched his fist, signalling the begin of the attack.

Over the corner of the door frame, Theodore threw out the cocked flashbang. A sound, probably equivalent to the human's "Huh?", was heard briefly before a thundering sound was made along with the blinding flash. Then, the grunts from the enemy was heard. Wasting no time, Neville and Draco flushed out, standing in the hallway and opening fire at the group of enemy standing dazed 20 meters away. The semi-automatic shotgun quickly threw heavy rounds of 12-gauge scattered shot at the enemy. Meanwhile, the bullpup rifles of Draco and Theodore let loose a constant streams of cartridges at the enemy. Finally, to finalise the concert, Harry peaked out of the door and hurled a High Explosive grenade at the group of Turian soldiers.

There was five Turian soldiers in the group, none was able to shield themselves against the flashbang. It was a justified result as the "blinding weapon" was quite unique to humanity. Under the shock made by the surprise attack and weapon, three of them dropped their weapons to the ground and started hugging their eyes, the other two were slightly better with one hand still clutching their weapons.

Unknown, and unseen, by these soldiers were their brighten shields. Every time a bullet landed, the "alien shield" flare up in their signature blue colour. When the grenade exploded in the middle of their formation, all five shields brightened up greatly.

Bit by bit, the kinetic barriers of the Turians were mined and chipped away. All of that happened while they were still dizzy and combat ineffective. All within ten seconds, or even less.

The least affected Turian slowly recovered from his blindness. He raised up his rifle... just in time to see his and his closest friend's barriers reduced to null. The next thing he felt was fierce pain on his chest, and then, oblivion.

Neville breathed heavily, trying to stay upright and firm. He just killed, not in a blood rage or blinding emotion. He killed another sentient being in cold blood with absolute efficiency and brutality. He just killed...

"Nev, *grunt*, stay calm... it's... it's for the best... If we don't kill them, they would kill us... Calm down mate... Calm down..."

Well, Harry, despite being shaken to the core, was trying to console him, or rather, their commander was trying to console himself. Fitting, consider the situation at hand. Neville decided to focus on something else to ease down the uneasy part in his stomach... He tried to stay concentrated on the firefight.

On his side of the fight, all four human soldiers kept firing, they did not stop for any reason. They were able to neutralise the enemy shielding via brute force and cut down the enemy with efficiency. It was a small victory for the human, but they had already used up quite an amount of ammunition: each soldier had to use a full assault rifle's magazine of 30 rounds to cut down the enemy in addition to a full "mag" of shotgun.

It was a high expense, but totally worth doing. Kneeling on the floor, Neville observed the down enemy. They were... strange. Or not so strange if he had to follow their logic. It was likely that they did not use the same kind of bullets as the human, explaining the lack of armour and dependence on "energy shield". Or they used to deploy the same items as the human (on principle, at least) before, and they turned to use the "flashier" stuff because... they were "cooler"? Despite having an edge in shielding, the "battle dresses" these Turian were wearing were absolutely rubbish. They could not stop even a single bullet!

So, as long as the shields were down, the _crows_ would be at mercy of the Terran. Rumours had already spread among the crew of sniper units wrecking havoc and introducing nightmares to the invaders with the very same idea: depleted the shield and then dealt with them in the _sufficient_ methods.

Their guns were also strange to the heavy built soldier. Instead of a blocky design in dark colour (or camouflage patterns), the alien guns were made in a... bright material with a very "streamline" appearance. Sleek and curvy, _precisely_ how he imagined aliens would build their guns. While these aliens were not able to use the weapons, Neville would not be very surprise if they could shoot out some condensed and unstable plasma rockets.

While Neville was musing over the details of the dead enemy, his best friend Harry was contacting the squad leader over the radio net:

"Bravo fireteam here. Enemy on forth floor neutralised. No casualty. Proceed to speed clear the floor. Over."

"Grunt here. Negative. Flank the Turian's rear on third floor. Charlie reported a machine gun there, they are being pinned down and request urgent support. Over."

"Bravo. Roger, moving to assist. Over"

Turning off the radio net, he turned to his mates and relayed the order. Knowing that his comrades were being attacked real hard down stair did wonder to a soldier's psyche. Standing straight up, they moved along the hallway with haste and care. They did not stop to check room by room per their original order to clear out the building because they were now moving to assist their comrades.

In less than a minute, they reached the other end of the hallway with another stair going down. Standing there and ready to charge down, they could hear the faint "shoo-ing" sound of the alien weapons mixing with the thunder of the Terran guns. Making sure that a new magazine was inserted into each gun, the men of Bravo peaked over the hand rail, looking down the third floor.

They were greeted with the sight of a full enemy squad taking cover behind the wall while firing over the corner. Using the assault rifle, Theodore unleashed the "righteous furry" on the shooter, making his barrier flare up brightly. While it disrupted the enemy attack, the enemy was looking straight at him via their iron sights. Blue streaks of light instantly turned on him, missing Teddy just by a hair breadth.

White blue sparks were made as the result of collision between the strange alien ammunition and the metallic rail. Strangely, the sound of enemy firearm was... fairly small. It was not unnoticeable per se, but more like "acceptable" level for a untrained and mundane human's ear.

By now, Teddy had already landed on his butt after escaping enemy aim, and he was cursing. Meanwhile, Harry and Neville was crawling down on the stair, hugging the wall as closed as possible to avoiding detection. Of course, being a good fellow soldier, Draco had already peaked the gun over the corner and fired blindly. He did not have to hit any one, he just have to kept enemy attention away from his friends. The combined action of the fireteam paid off when Harry suddenly flanked them from the side, surprising the enemy with a well launched High Explosive grenade.

However, the enemy, five of them, was just having their shield depleting and not dead at the moment. Quickly, they were turning their guns on Harry, prompting Neville to provide cover fire by standing up and shooting from over the corner of the stair. Bullets after bullets hit the shield, the light probably temporarily blind the Turian, decreasing their aiming skill. But seriously? Who in their right mind would make such a flaw?

Oh right, the alien. They might invest more in terms of space ships than firearms or infantry equipment. But even so, did being blind while being hit really pay off with their protection power?

Flashing back to the early group of five (already dead) and watching this group being grinded to ash from multiple directions, Neville believed the answer was no.

From the hallway on the third floor, human soldiers of the Charlie fireteam scored a kill on the heavy gunner of the Turian while Bravo took down two more with another grenade. The remaining Turians were quickly finished with concentrated firepower and unflinching resolve.

The entire second combat situation took place in less than two minutes. It was short and brief, but it was intense and in close range as well as the fact that the human soldiers were pretty closed to "call if off" a few times. Only their luck and the quirkiness of the aliens' shields protected them from the ultimate fate of a soldier...

The fight for the apartment took place like that. Two human squads, twenty four men in total, eight men in active combat, fought against ten Turians and won. However, it came with a price. Charlie fireteam lost two men, one killed and the other severely injured. The unlucky one has his armour punctured and riddled with holes all over his body, blood flowing out from his stomach while his stomach had his left arm soaked in blood from the elbow going lower. Meanwhile, the rest of the men did not fair better by much. They survived, but they had already used up a considerable amount of ammunition. It was not to mention the dents and scratch on the hard suits.

Granted, both of those problems could be fixed in a short time, but the main problem was that they just began their fight less than one hour ago. If one hour could do this much, how much four days would do? And Neville was (trying to be) optimistic here. At least other floors reported minor sights of hostiles, instead of five men per floor like the top two, the other only had one each so far. The unlucky were quickly finished off with concentrated bursts of fire.

The two unlucky soldiers were escorted back to the ground floor and into the office of the housekeeper (which, strangely, was left untouched by the conflict). Inside, they were tended to by the platoon's medic, the injured one, at least. Meanwhile, all six fireteams were deployed to search through every room in the quickest manner possible. It also provided better protection and counter-attack value if there was any Turian left hiding in the apartment. Luckily, there was none. The building block was clear.

The Lieutenant, receiving the reports, instantly reported it back to the Captain. Fireteam Bravo, being the ones nearest to their commander, rest their backs on the wall. They were trying to catch some breath after a few harsh minutes. However, the pompous prince called Draco broke it with a snark. But it was in the wrong place and wrong time, making it a terrible omen for Neville:

"Hah! Is that everything you got, crows?"

As soon as he finished, everyone in the surrounding just stared at him blankly. He had no idea what he just said, right? Did he just temp fate? He, a soldier, tempting fate, during war, on an active war zone? Against alien invaders with unknown capabilities no less? Every soldier slightly inched away from him, almost as if expecting something terrible to happen. The list of choices ranged from a previously unknown monster of the abyss appearing in the hallway and starting to devour everyone to the pissed off girlfriend of Harry calmly walking up the street with a shinai (a wooden kendo practice sword) and leaving a trail of knocked out soldiers behind.

And yes, the latter limit took place during boot camp (something about Harry missing the Saturday dinner for a night in bar with his bro's). It was a long story that no sane soldier of the 12th Platoon wanted to remember. Even the Captain, company commander, did not dare to spoke about it out loud. He had no problem facing a rough day in the mud (and minefield, and artillery), but he was still sane enough to _not_ pissing of Mrs-to-be Potter.

The answer of the universe came shortly after that with a scream over radio net. It came from the Third squad being "ahead" of the advance. It seemed like the enemy was starting to fight back.

"Enemy reinforcement from the North! Platoon size! Gunship and armoured spotted!"

If Draco was not wearing a helmet, everyone would see his pale face by now. They only had two squads in the building with limited ammunition. The odds stacking against them were high rate of consumption as well as the outnumbering enemy by the odd of two to one. Perfect combination for a tough fight according to a human's dictionary.

The sounds of gun fire arrived shortly after that. Again, the thunderous sound of the AK-25 was heard loudly and clearly in the mid-morning of the colony's spring. Quick burst mixing with long hails of fire, Neville almost could not hear the strange whooshing sound of the alien firearms. However, even if he could not hear it, he could see the traces - they looked just like lasers after all.

Ducking down behind the wall, he pulled out the rifle, aimed in the general direction of the enemy and began firing. Quickly, the two squads in the apartment block joined the orchestra with all kind of weapons unleashed. From the cut and dry bang of the AK-25 assault rifle to the piercing wind of the "Gauss gun" MAS-2 sniper file, the battlefield was quickly drowned in gun shots. Spent brass cartridges were falling to the floor while smoking, in the same time, the occasional barks of the sniper rifle leaves a faint trail of "cloud" behind. The machine gun, or to be "politically correct", the SAW (Squad Automatic Weapon), was throwing out "laser beams". They were not laser beams, of course, they just look like them. Tracer rounds, go figure...

From the road, the APC opened fire the machine gun on any exposed enemy, or simply forced the enemy staying in one place, basic suppression fire tactics. Meanwhile, she was also providing cover for the Third Squad, who was hugging close to the hull of the armoured car. The strange alien bullets (or beams) hitting the APC and left just a few scratches and dents behind. Its stopping power against the Battle dress uniform also seemed pretty low, Neville had already seen Oliver taking two hits on his stomach armour and still fighting.

The fight went on with both sides fighting with everything they had and neither showed any mercy.

The enemy, trying to take the Third Squad and the APC head-on, was suddenly caught on the flank from the apartment. However, those aliens did not cut and run. They fought back, dealing casualty to the 12th Platoon. Fireteam "Gamma" of Second squad was rendered ineffective after a focus fire of a group of enemy troopers hiding behind a wrecked car. Lee had his visor shattered and his face was burnt and charred over. His two teammates, Fred and George, were caught by a hailstorm of "heavy gun" and dropped down almost instantly. The last member, Ron, was knocked out. He was alive, but unable to fight for the foreseeable future.

Glancing around, Neville quickly realised that his fireteam and the Lieutenant was not luckier by a large degree. Their hard suits had already showed signs of heavy combat and wear. Draco even had a big scratch on the right of his helmet. It was probably a lucky shot, or not. But if that shot shifted a little to the left, a few degrees at most, Ferret would be a new name on the KIA list. The Lieutenant, Godric, was almost caught off guard in a few closed calls. Only the timely intervention of someone else, or even pure luck, kept him alive so far.

The gunship was trying flew toward the apartment block again, but one more time, an accurate burst from the machine gun on the APC discouraged it from getting too closed for comfort. However, while it was not able to neutralise any "key" targets like the APC or the apartment building, it was able to wear down the men of the 12th Platoon. The whirlwind of the missiles, probably unguided, slammed down on the ground around the APC. The vehicle was unharmed, just having a lot more dark soot on its hull but the soldiers around it were not so lucky. Multiple casualties were noted, some were killed, some were knocked out... But nevertheless Third squad just suffered high loss, practically rendered them to nothing.

The black silhouette of a blocky "claw" appeared again on the sky, planning to strafe on the remnants of the Third squad. However, this time, everyone was warned before hand thanks to a sniper in Second squad. Then, the entire Platoon combined to show their might. First squad rained down suppress fire on the enemy while the Second and the APC opened fire on the gunship with everything they had. The shield around the said gunship brighten up greatly in the blue-white colour, it was being drained, bit by bit...

And then, there was a spark on its hull. The shield had been drained completely.

Not missing the chance, Rocky from Second squad deployed his shoulder carrying missile. Capable of anti-tank, anti-bunker and anti-gunship, the "Javelin Mk. XI" was a go-to choice for many units for its well-rounded effectiveness. And now, the Turian gunship was being proven how _effective_ a human-made missile could be. The missile was punched out via compressed air, it left hanging in the air for a brief moment before the propulsion was lit up. The fire accelerated the missile greatly, pushing it toward the gunship. The enemy, while able to spot the incoming danger, had no way to escape. He tried to deploy some chaffs (just like the human counter-part, strangely enough) but missile remained steadfast to its target.

There was a brief moment, no more than two seconds, after everyone saw the ineffectiveness of the chaff and before the gunship exploded. Neville halfheartedly wondered what the pilot may have said... Something like _Oh f***!_? It seemed... possible.

However, the gunship was not the only support and grave threat towards the 12th Platoon. An armoured vehicle had just walked into their view. Its shield was probably at full-charged, meaning heavy firepower would be required to remove that from equation, allowing the anti-tank man to attack again. The enemy knew that too, they just intensify their firepower, pinning everyone down. In other word, they could not directly and effectively deploy heavy weaponry to boil down enemy shield. The situation was grave, but the Lieutenant had already known how to solve the issue:

"Yorkshire-412 to Bauget-74, requesting support. Over."

"Bauget-74 to Yorkshire-412. Request received and accepted. Over."

"Yorkshire-412 to Bauget-74, grid Charlie-0-3-0, Victor-0-0-4, Quadrant 4. Enemy infantry and one shielded APC are on the main road. Requesting HESGA. Danger close, 150. Over."

"Bauget-74 to Yorkshire-412. Grid Charlie-0-3-0, Victor-0-0-4, Quadrant 4. Enemy infantry and one shielded APC. Danger close, 150. HESGA permitted, ten rounds. Inbound in forty five seconds. Over."

"Yorkshire-412 to Bauget-74. Ten rounds, forty five seconds. Out."

Yes, the Lieutenant was calling support from the rear. The attached 674th Artillery Company within the 45th Regiment stationed in Shanxi. Originated from a country in the area once was called South East Asia, the 674th was able to ultilise the knowledge of their forefather to the fullest. Combined with high tech and versatile artillery system, they, along with other Artillery formation from PAC, were able to do the impossible. Normal un-guided artillery shells at 105mm calibre had the accuracy of 200m, but within their hands, they could even _snipe_ with the accuracy of 100m. No one had been able to unveil the secret of their power.

Continuous training, discipline, retrench and a well laid-out firing solution for every grid, they said. But no one had been able to repeat that ability.

A countdown appeared on each soldier's HUD. It was a simple line of 00:45 and going down one by one. Everyone suddenly fought a bit harder, shoot a bit more accurately and duck a bit faster. They knew support was coming. They were just infantry, line infantry to be exact. Hence, news of reinforcement like artillery, armoured or gunship were always welcomed and cherished. Neville aimed through the scope and fired again. The vibration of the gun reminded him of the current situation, they must fight to regain the block.

Whatever it took.

The sound of thunder and the flash of lightning continued to rage on the field. Both sides were trying their best to force the enemy out of their positions. The stubbornness of humanity verse the discipline of the Turian. They did not know it yet, but the fight here would be remembered forever in the history, only to be shadowed by an even greater war. But, that would the story of the future, which was unimportant to here and now.

Now, both sides were clashing viciously, neither show willingness to back down, not even one bit.

And then, the whistling sound was heard over the air again. The artillery shells were inbound. The gun fight briefly stopped for a moment when the humans ducking behind cover and the Turians suddenly looked up in the sky in fear and surprise. They just experienced this cry of banshee not to long ago, they knew what cam afterwards. Destruction.

The shells rained down hard on Turian formation. Ten consecutive shots shook the entire ground, throwing dirt and debris upward in the air. The cry of the alien was drown in the thundering explosion of hell. Flame spread out, leaping on stunned and cowering enemy, quickly disabling them in a... horrible fashion. Some, seemingly, was burnt out completely while others were blown away... Godric frowned his eyebrow... The enemy shield could not even block flame and heat? Strange... He expected something more from the aliens...

A message was dispatched to The Old Man. He needed to know about this. The biggest advantage of the enemy was their shield blocking the rounds. But with this knowledge, appropriate counter-measures could be made, turning the favour towards the human. Fire could bypass the shield, hence hinting option of explosive being used on mass scale, as well as some pyromaniacs...

On the street, the Turian armoured vehicle was hit directly by a lucky shot, or not. Considering the one fired it was artillery men from PAC and they got visual feed from his own helmet cam, they may even try to snipe it from afar. If they were actually aiming for this feet, he must buy something for them later. Beer, grilled meat with noodles as well as nuts, he heard that those artillery snipers loved them a lot. And they had already earned it.

Peeking over the window, Godric scanned the surrounding with the Bravo fireteam of First squad. Luckily, they saw no enemy, the ones still alive and kicking, at least. The enemy had retreated in this fight, probably... or this was just a tactical retreat and they were preparing an ambush deeper in the city. Lieutenant Gryffindor watched over the casualty report displayed in his HUD. Despite some gains, his unit was hit pretty hard. Third Squad was wiped out with only a handful of men remaining, Second and Third Squad did not fare much better with some loss. In addition, the attached APC had reported minor malfunctions in the chassis and the aiming system. Forth Squad, meanwhile, was the luckiest, they reported no contact with the enemy so far.

The man holding the apartment block did not even cheer for the success, they were too well-trained to assume anything. Plus, they just witness the efficiency of the enemy first hand, it would be stupid to temp fate, the Ferret excluded.

A roughly twenty percent loss was a heavy loss... Sighing, he stood up and voiced the command into the microphone:

"Third Squad... remain behind and hold the position, take care of ours fallen too. First and Second, proceed forward. Forth Squad, continue to hold the flank. We have a long day ahead."

* * *

HESGA: High Explosive Self-Guided Ammunition. It is a scaled-up version of the self-guiding bullet being developed by US at the moment. Thanks to high-accuracy gun and sensor, the "danger close" limit was withdrawn significantly, from currently 600m to just over 200m.

*Fun fact:  
Yorkshire Pudding is a traditional food from Britain while Bauget is one of the iconic food of Vietnam - search "banh mi Vietnam"  
Corporal Harry (Potter) shared the same initials with his girlfriend (and wife-to-be) - I shipped them for the original Harry Potter series for [EXPLETIVE DELETE]'s sake


	18. I am terribly sorry

**Hi guys, thank you a lot for supporting me in this story so far. For a first-time fanfic writer (and some one who has _never_ played a Mass Effect game), your support and enthusiasm is a great deal of joy. Reading your praises or seeing new notifications of followers and/or favourite (despite the fact that this story has not been updated for quite a while) always brings joy to my heart.**

 **However, I have no choice but to disappoint you guys. I am sorry to say that the current version of "For Motherland! For Terra! For Rannoch!" is, from this moment, under indefinite hiatus. The main reason is that I am unable to bring up new ideas for the next chapter and develop them enough to a sufficient length without resorting to use cheap tricks like "paste and copy redundant words". In addition, real life (engineering course at university) greatly hinder the target of 6000 words (minimum) per chapter. **

**That being said, I will _not_ abandon this fanfic. This is my work, my spiritual child, so to speak. Abandoning it is... "not cool" in my book. Therefore, I will restart the story soon (in a separate story, also by this account). The plan date is in mid-June, after taking my exams, then, if I am lucky enough (no re-takes), I can upload the first few re-write chapters (maximum three) by the end of the month.**

 **Again, I apology for letting you down this time. I promise that the new version will be significantly improved, in grammar, spelling as well as character development. Major improvements and extra background for world-building will also be seen.**

 **Meanwhile, I have already launched a smaller project (fanfic-like) on SpaceBattle and SufficientVelocity forums (to be precise, it begins at AlternateHistory). It is an anime-based quest (the anime in question: _Infinite Stratos_ ) named "Tell me, do you bleed?". I would be grateful if you guys can drop by and give it a look.**

 **Thank you a lot for sticking with me so far.**

 **Gnoah.**


End file.
